Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child
by Doctor Project
Summary: As an old friend returns from the dead with a warning for the Doctor, a new unimaginable threat reveals itself. On the fringes of known space, worlds, planets and stars are all falling into fire and shadow...  The demanded sequel to The Fractured Vortex.
1. Previously on The Fractured Vortex

**Previously on Doctor Who : The Fractured Vortex...**

**The White Guardian's Task**

The world here was white. Completely and utterly white. It wasn't just colour however. It was light. Everything seemed to be made of what you would call light though unlike any you've ever seen before and neither warm nor cold, but merely existing. There were no walls except for the floor which was simply a flat and blank something on which to be. A bright mist not experienced anywhere else hovered inches from the floor that simply was for things to be on. Everything was white and this was how it was for many eons in the White Void, but not today. Today, a woman dressed in white who called the White Void home was speaking to a stranger who did not belong. He wore a black hooded jacket, looked pale and tired.

"So, do you understand what to do?" she asked him quietly though her voice boomed and echoed with great strength.

"Yes," answered the Master softly. His voice did not carry. It was heavy and weary. "But I still have a lot of questions to ask."

"Such as?" said the woman in white. Her face lined, and her eyes looked heavy but her expression unwavering in the light that bathed and blurred her edges.

"Why me?" he asked. His head had been down, listening obediently to the White Guardian's dictations and instruction, but was now slowly lifting. Feeling and strength were returning to  
him. It first returned to his fingers and he stretched them and tested them playfully. The White Guardian observed him quietly and hesitated before answering him.

"You are one side of the coin," she said simply, though her voice amplified even louder this time as though this information held more gravity and importance. "The Doctor is the other. The Time Lords of Gallifrey had a name for the two of you - The Enmity of Ages. One can not exist without the other, unless nothing else exists. If we lose either you or the Doctor, then all of creation might well follow."

"What about the drums?" asked the Master as he looked up to the White Guardian's face for the first time. His eyes widened and his pupils adjusted to the brightness.

"It has ceased to exist and the link now severed," answered the White Guardian, taking no notice of the Master's strength returning. She was not oblivious to it. She seemed not to care.

"The drums are...gone. Good. Well I thought...What about Rassilon - is he still alive?" he asked carefully.

"He has been returned to the Time War," she said.

"You're avoiding answering me," he responded almost immediately, though his voice no longer heavy. A malicious grin returned to him, one he wore with much pride so many times. "I was back in the Time War and now I'm here. So answer me, does he still exist?"

"If you should take up this task, your paths will cross once more," she admitted, though she did not show any guilt or ill-intention of any kind. She merely did not wish to cloud his judgement with such information. Not when she had such a great and dark task for him.

"Good. I hate to leave my unfinished business alive," replied the Master smiling, his hands now on his hip as he twisted his head to ease a painful crick in his neck. Then he stretched his back and arms, asking, "What about my body?"

"Your hunger has ended and your body healed from all ill effects."

"Shame. I was beginning to enjoy projectile lightning," added the Master sarcastically as stared down at his palms. He then mimed shooting energy out of his hands towards the White Guardian and accompanied it with self-made sound effects. He smiled a wide smile, as though murder and chaos amused him. The White Guardian did not react which served only to make him laugh once more. "Could have used it at parties and stuff. I get very bored." He made a face as though finishing a twisted joke but still the White Guardian did not respond the way he wanted her to. He made a face and rolled his eyes at her.

"If it's a weapon you seek, your wit and intelligence will suffice," she said, her voice drowning out the Master's actions. "Even against Rassilon," she added.

"Well, I always did well at school you know," answered the Master sardonically but still his attempts did not bring about anything from the White Guardian. Then his playfulness evaporated instantly, his eyes flashing deadly intent and asked her, "How do you know I'll cooperate?"

"Because if you don't, then you will be returned to the end of the Time War, where you will meet your final end," she answered as if a threat. The Master glowered and narrowed his eyes observing her. "But that's not the only reason. I have seen your true self."

"Really?" chuckled the Master as he cocked his head to one side.

"You wish for redemption," she replied simply. "After everything you've done."

"Is that so?" replied the Master dismissively, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. He laughed.

"I see the truth of it all young child of Gallifrey," answered the White Guardian. The Master's laughter was swallowed up in the wake of her echoing voice. She would not allow the Master to dictate this conversation. "You wish to know. You wish to know how everything would have turned out had it not been for the circumstances beyond your control. You wish for a second chance at life."

"I'm a Time Lord," he replied. "We have thirteen chances at life. Death is but a door for us. Myself, I've had lots of doors. Some revolving. Made my tummy all upset sometimes."

"But you now know that everything you were before may not have been truly yourself. You were the work of Rassilon. You wish to know what would have happened if you truly made yourself."

The Master pondered for a while, taking it in. "Well, I guess that's sort of true."

"So will you accept this task?"

"Yeah why not," he answered nonchalantly. He swivelled around gesturing to the world around him. "There's nothing for me to do around here anyways. It's all fog."

"Good. Then you-"

"Ah, but one more thing though," interrupted the Master, his grin widening as he cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowing at the woman in white. A strange deranged delight seemed to ooze out of him. "Just a teeny weeny little thing before I go do your bidding and whatnot."

"Speak and the White Guardian shall answer," she replied serenely, emotionless and utterly still.

"No, no. Hah. No. I don't want to speak to the White Guardian. I want to speak to you," growled the Master pointing and waving a finger in her direction. "The body, the person, and the host you're using."

The woman said nothing.

"Who are you?" asked the Master assertively.

"I cannot answer something you already know," she replied, the expression on her face unreadable, though a hint of a smile traced her lips. However the Master did not know what it meant. The Master taunted her in return, smiling his wide smile, teeth bearing fully in front of her.

"Ok, how did you end up here?" asked the Master, his hands stretching outwards to the world. "How did you end up like this? How did you end up as the new White Guardian? Did we miss out something in the Classified Ads?"

"I traded my body so it would be the new host," replied the woman almost immediately. She seemed to have anticipated the question, or seen it whilst it was still forming in the Master's head.

"What for?" insisted the Master, a finger waving dismissing the answer. The White Guardian did not speak immediately. For the first time an expression began to spread upon her face.  
One filled with grief more than sadness. She blinked and her eyes shut, time stretched till she opened her eyes once again before she spoke.

"To save the Doctor," she said. Her voice no longer booming and imposing. It was fragile as though a touch would break it. "To save my son... The Man Whose Name Dare Not Be Mentioned. Not even by me."

"Well, seems you're doing it again. Saving him I mean," refuted the Master, a grin spreading on his face once again. The nasty grin that stretched on for ages.

"No," she insisted, her voice stronger though not echoing across the white void surrounding them. "This time it is not by my will that the Doctor be saved, but that of Time. It is merely a curse of the world that such an irony would exist."

"No need to talk about life's ironies," replied the Master waving a hand away. "I know them far too well. I'm on a mission to save the Doctor, so if you don't mind, I'd much rather not harp on it. I prefer it called a cruel twist of fate's dagger, lodged unfortunately in both my hearts."

"You saved him from Rassilon," she persisted. "What difference does it make now?"

"It wasn't my intention to save the Doctor," lied the Master defensively. "I only wanted to kill Rassilon."

"Lies are your greatest weapons, but it will not work on a Guardian of Time such as myself," she said, her voice echoing again and her expression now lifted. Her eyes turned cold and hollow and she straightened herself. "With that self-sacrificing act you sought to redeem yourself. I see the truth of it all. The truth of you. Another irony I should think."

"Whatever," dismissed the Master once more. He did not like the idea of others visiting his intentions and thoughts. That was why he had taken such great lengths to fully master the mindscape and spent much of his life studying psychic abilities and hypnotism. He wished to never have his true motives discovered by others. That, and the constant drumming.

"Are you ready?" she asked him assertively, turning them back to subject.

"More or less," he shrugged.

"Take this," she said, as from nothingness but light, she presented a white glowing ring that rested in the palm of her hand. It shimmered and blinded the Master so much so that he had to shield himself from the light at first, before the intensity subsided and the ring finally formed into a solid object of pure white. The Master looked unsure at first but then moved forwards to collect it from her. He took it between his thumb and finger and brought it closer to observe it.

"A Time Ring?" he said finally. "This brings backs memories. I had a prototype you know."

"This is no ordinary Time Ring. It will bring you to wherever you need to be in time and space," said the White Guardian.

"Shiny."

"Use it well," she said finally. The Master put on the ring and knew their exchange was now over.

"Guess I'll go now...Need me to give the Doctor a note? Tell him his mum's alright? Oh wait, I probably can't. There's always that sort of rule isn't there? How about a cheery hello? Get him to pick up some bread? Milk? Turkey? No?" asked the Master sarcastically. "Ah well. Buh-bye!"

And with a great flash of white light, he vanished in terrible echoes of his maniacal laughter that resonated throughout the universe. The Master survives. The Master always survives.

This time however, he has to save the Doctor.

But darkness and danger has been lying in wait for us all.

_Death is but a door_

* * *

**Singapore, UNIT Base 51  
'Serenity Valley'**

"Where did you find him?" growled General Anthony Adama as he stared carefully through the plasma shielded window examining the new subject. They called him Subject Zero, and at the moment he was just sitting there, meditating. No cuffs, no restraints. There was no such need. Apparently the subject simply broke them every time, but did not try to escape. They called him Subject Zero...He wasn't sure subject was the right word for it. They were fifty floors underground, every thick concrete wall was reinforced with titanium bars underneath and the fact that there was a plasma shielded security barrier every few hundred meters in the facility, Adama preferred to think it was more appropriate to call the subjects here as prisoners instead. Nobody besides authorized personnel who's entered in has ever managed to get out besides in a body bag. If you were lucky.

"Mexico," answered Professor Parkman. He referred to his chart which he balanced on his bulging stomach, scanned it with his tiny little eyes and wrinkled his bushy walrus moustache at it. "Our reports state he had fallen from space. Fortunately he smashed into an unpopulated area, though when UNIT forces arrived, he was able to eliminate them all with his bare hands...which were at the time unattached to his body."

Adama snorted derisively.

"We were able to finally apprehend and detain him after several hours in which he stated his name, date of birth and next of kin, though no such records of him exist. We've therefore called him Subject Zero, though he prefers to be called-"

"Wade Watson," whispered Adama.

"How did you know?" asked Professor Parkman surprised. "This is strictly classified."

"I know," drawled Adama as he turned and bore his menacing eyes into Professor Parkman's. It felt like his gaze could pierce his skull and reach into the far depths of his mind, and the touch of deadliness behind it did not escape the Professor's thoughts. The change of mood was instant and intense that the Professor's breaths grew heavier the longer Adama stared down at him. "I know because I helped make him."

"W-What do you mean?" trembled the Professor. Each word uttered by Adama now weighed heavy and lethal. "What do you mean 'make'?"

Adama took out a cigar from his coat and lit it carefully. He needed it if he were to continue because he didn't have any alcohol on him. It had to do. He took several long puffs, still staring at Wade who did not acknowledge any of them. He just sat there. Meditating. It was most unnerving. Wade was only ever quiet when he was serious.

"Not too long ago, UNIT were getting very tired of aliens just killing all of our boys," muttered Adama slowly, trying to make the cigar last. "Time after time they'd come, and time and time again we'd send in our troops. Once in a while, we get lucky. But mostly, those young men go back home dead. And if we're really lucky, we get to tell them how they died. If not, we'll end up lying to their families."

"I see..."

"So we set up a secret UNIT funded project to help not just our soldiers, but for the whole of humanity. One day the aliens will come, even live amongst us and we had to be ready or we'd be wiped out," said Adama. "I was in charge of enhancing the biology of humanity, leading a team of the world's best eugenicists of the time. Our objective was simple. We had to make humans stronger, faster, anything it took to ensure our survival against the alien threat. We were enhancing people, Professor. Turning them into something better for the future. Learning from our encounters with aliens and preparing ourselves by subjecting people to evolve into a higher state of human."

"Were these people...volunteers?" said the Professor hesitantly. He did not know if he wished for an answer, but he had to ask. His body was betraying him, shaking and taking tiny steps back. The General stood still, indifferent and unmoved by the horrors he was about to share.

"Some were... Some didn't have anything else to live for... Mostly, they may have been too young perhaps."

"My God..."

"Serums of enhancements, one after another we tested them. And after many months of trials, all of the successful biological enhancements we injected into an orphan whom you now call Wade...Unfortunately for us, loading in everything we could think of resulted in Wade losing his all of his memories and drove him to insanity. He turned savage and when we tried to contain him, he escaped, killing almost everyone and destroying the entire facility. We tried to track him down. As you can imagine, he was a great threat as well as being a great investment. But tried as we might, there was no trace of him. We expected cities to be destroyed or at least some sort of minor devastation with human casualties...but nothing. We assumed he may have died, though we did search for a body. In the end, that was mostly that. Everyone who was part of the project mysteriously disappeared and nobody spoke of it again. But who'd have thought I'd see him here? I wonder if he even remembers me. More importantly, does he even know his true powers? Imagine what we could do with a weapon like this. He could have taken Fallujah on his own. Perhaps even Canary Wharf. He'll be a very good addition to the team..."

"W-wait," stammered the Professor. "I thought we were supposed to be the good guys! I'm not going to be a p-part of this. This is a crime against humanity."

"Against?" growled Adama, his deadly eyes returning its gaze upon Professor Parkman. A flash of rage streaked as he stepped forwards and grabbed him with both arms by the coat. Adama pulled him up off the ground, shaking him aggressively with astounding strength and spat out his cigar as he ground his teeth.

"You experimented on humans! Please put me -"

"Against humanity? Why don't you tell that to my son? Why don't you look him in the sockets and whisper into his metallic Cyberman head the crimes against humanity?"

"N-no. What are you doing? NO!"

The lights went out. The General's eyes glowed red. His skin transmuted from a healthy pink to a steel shimmer of scales, and his teeth and claws now razor sharp to a point and black like the darkness surrounding them. That was all Professor Parkman saw before he died. A day later, all personnel had been replaced and all information regarding the facility became classified. Only known information is that the rebuilt 'Valiant' and her new sister the 'Valkyrie' currently take residence at this facility when not on duty.

* * *

**Black Vs White  
**

"You've replaced your lost pawn then?" asked the Black Guardian, with feigned sincerity and curiosity. Very little escapes his knowledge, for he creeps up in the hearts and minds of everything that has even just a glimmer of darkness. There is nothing he cannot turn to his nefarious use, no knowledge he does not wish to learn. He continued with his act nonetheless. "Oh my... the Master? That's quite a surprise. I did not think you would take such a dangerous gambit. Our game has taken a decidedly more interesting twist now you have a new host."

"I'm an excellent judge of character," she replied pleasantly though her eyes flashed dangerously at him. "I think you'll find my assessments to be right on the money. You are however mistaken if you think he is merely a pawn."

"Yes," answered the Black Guardian contemptuously. He pressed his fingers together and pondered wisely in his shroud of darkness. "But is he really the person to fight for the Spirit of Light in Time?"

"The light aims to help," answered the White Guardian simply as she bathed in the shimmering light behind her. Her gaze still fixed upon him. "Sometimes with the Doctor, he heals people in need; sometimes execute dangerous enemies. Either way helps. The Master is the same. He may be evil and corrupt, but within our game...Who better than the Devil himself to contend with Hell?"

"You've become a wonderful shade of grey if you don't mind me saying so," answered the Black Guardian, his words trailing in the air maliciously.

"I'm afraid I'll be taking that as an insult," she replied tersely. "Especially since you have not shown me any of your new pieces. Hiding them all in your shroud of darkness."

"And you blind them from me with your light. Let us show them together then."

"As you wish," she replied.

The cloak of black unravelled like smooth gaseous silk. The glaring light crumpled like parchment. In an instant, everything was gone and all the pieces stood revealed.

"My, my...what a wonderfully interesting game we've got this time," whispered the Black Guardian, as he made his first move upon the board.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

_One man must face his past.  
To save our future._

_Doctor Who: The Nightmare Child_


	2. Prologue : The Fall of Galaxies

**Prologue : The Fall of Galaxies**

Out in space, it is dark and dormant as a crypt. Silent and endless. The stars shine like the love of God, cold and remote. Time here is full and treads slowly past. History bears down upon you, the weight of the centuries and millennia, in the pitch black heart of the Universe. Within this blackness life is lost and only death can be found. And deeper within that darkness, in an ancient and forbidden sanctum to the majestic lost Lords of Time, a sinister cabal has gathered from all corners of creation. From the past, the present, the future. The old, the new, the unknown, the unknowable.

The chamber of the temple was large, barely lit and magnificently decorated.

The figures in the shadows sat and stood around a long ornate stone table, with great etched High Gallifreyan seals and symbols of royalty shining in the dim eerie light of the chamber. Barely visible were the words _Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici_ that lined the edges of the table up to where the throne stood, high and mighty, and all heads were bowed down in its direction. The Emperor sitting upon throne was veiled in shadow and it seemed to the naked eye that the seat were to be almost empty. You could barely make out his silhouette as though he seemed to be made of the surrounding darkness itself. But nonetheless an ominous energy emanated from him, repelling all others unworthy to claim authority and leadership over this sinister council. The secret empire that he has seemingly forged simply with dark words and dangerous whispers.

Rassilon sat on the right and closest to the Emperor, casting a contemptuous eye down upon all the others around him. Savages, machines and monsters not worthy to have set one foot or claw into this Temple of Time. Such a holy place this used to be. The Sanctum of the Exalted. They tainted it. The Cybermen, Sontarans, Rutans, Ogrons, Sycorax, Draconians, Autons, Zygons. All but a few of those present. All the greatest killers, butchers and warmongers not yet massacred to beyond extinction, had gathered and were now -Rassilon could barely regard them as intelligent beings let alone as- allies.

Then the silence broke, footsteps heard from outside the temple doors and verily they swung open without the need for touch - only for a Time Lord. The Temple of Time was wise to such presence of Time Lords and readily opened for their kind. A heavily cloaked figure entered the halls and all eyes turned to face it. There was a silence of apprehension as the figure stood dark against the light and hidden under the cloak that was singed and scorched, smoke and ember trailing.

Getting closer, the figure immediately got on one knee and bowed to the Emperor who remained still and unmoved.

"Who dares?" Rassilon boomed, gripping tightly his glove and staff. A faint glow of blue lit around him like a deathly halo.

"IDENTIFY!" screeched the Cyberleader, lights flashing angrily and gun aimed to kill.

"It is I," muttered the figure stepping forwards, pulling back the cloak and hood revealing a badly scarred face of a woman. Immediately Rassilon's glow sizzled and died but the interest of the cabal sharpened as they stiffened in anticipation. "The Rani. I have returned from my task."

"Have you succeeded?" asked the Dark Emperor, his voice drawling with great malice and lethal intent. Glowing green eyes lit up as he spoke as though he had only now awakened and set themselves fast upon the Rani's bowing head. The others looked away, fidgeted or took a step back as though fearful the gaze might burn or petrify them.

"Yes my lord," breathed the Rani anxiously. "As we have predicted, the Doctor believes he has healed the fractured vortex and saved the Universe."

"Then the part of the Time Lord's deal in this is done," declared Rassilon proudly to the Emperor. "The stage is set and all our players are now in place. The first act is complete."

"However, I have urgent news," interrupted the Rani as softly as she could, hoping that she may not have been heard. Her eyes darted fearfully on the floor, unable to find strength or courage to lift her head.

"Speak," hissed the darkness immediately. The Emperor seemed to know a secret was being hidden from him.

There was a long silence before the Rani dared to speak again.

"The daughter of the Doctor has escaped," said the Rani, her voice being barely audible even in the still silence. "And they are now reunited."

The atmosphere changed at once: a tense and fearful murmur spread throughout the chamber which grew steadily into angry protests. The council looked overwrought, watching the Rani, both wanting her to go on it seemed and slightly afraid of what else they might hear. Rassilon's eyes burned a firestorm and he began to glow once more empowered by his glove. However, the Emperor remained silent.

"You fool!" roared Rassilon, stamping his staff onto the marble floor with such fury that it cracked and hot white streaks of energy sparked from it. "Their reunion will spell disaster for us all. Have you forgotten or have you not heard the prophecy? The child is the key to all this."

The Emperor held up a large, gloved hand and Rassilon subsided immediately, staring ferociously down at the Rani who avoided his gaze.

"It matters not what has been said," declared the Emperor from down the table, his glowing green eyes glinting in some light. "Time can be rewritten and so, we shall do it from the beginning. All that has come to pass shall be no more as we rend this reality apart."

The cabal round the table watched the Emperor apprehensively, each of them by their expression seemed to be in either fear or awe of what was being said. The Cybermen and Sontarans turned and eyed one another furtively, wondering what it all meant for their own continued existence.

"We shall alter the past. Send your greatest armies and fighters to find them. Kill the Doctor if you have to. Slaughter his companions as well, but the child must not be harmed. Recapture her."

"But my Lord, is the Doctor not also part of the plan?" asked Rassilon hastily.

"Yes but at this point, the child is of greater importance to me than him. Without her we cannot move forwards. The Doctor's is our enemy but she is to be our asset and weapon with which we will utterly break and destroy not only him but all others who oppose us. One leads to the other. Find her and we will receive the Doctor. Take as many planets and lives as you have to but remember I want the child alive. Do not fail me lest you wish to suffer my wrath."

"It shall be done," echoed the company.

"Soon, as the galaxy crumbles and tears, broken by the cracks of doom, and we finally cut away the cancer and canker that infects us, threatening the health of the rest, a great and final silence will fall. All sinners shall face the Judgement of the Child. And there shall be no respite for the so-called Champion of Time, the Doctor… I've waited eons for you."


	3. Chapter One : Running Out of Time

**Chapter One : Running Out of Time**

_It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but ourselves__ - Shakespeare_

The old man remembers his past and he visits them frequently in his mind. Quietly and on his own. All those moments lost in time, like tears in rain. Of many forgotten follies and secret adventures. He remembers the sights and smells and all other sensations return to him so very eagerly. It's the only way left of returning home.

It is Gallifrey. The sky is a burnt orange and a cold wind blows past between the mighty twin mountains that cradled the Citadel like a great jewel. Vaster and more splendid than anything you could have dreamed of; greater and stronger than it seemed and far too beautiful. Inside the shining jewel of a city, the Time Lords had gathered for a celebration. The Court of Eternity shone in the morning sun, a sweet fountain played there and a sward of bright green lay about it. The white-paved court was filled with mighty and majestic men and women of Gallifrey, all speaking with happy tones of voice. They had deemed it a marvellous day indeed for the celebration.

But something was amiss...

Now far from the serene and orderliness of the city, in the underbelly of the Citadel where dirt and dust have a greater presence, a small robed figure scurried through the busy Gallifreyan streets, ducking and dodging. He is a blur as he weaves through the crowds of Gallifreyans, and all one could see was the flash of robes. Prydonian robes. Moments later a group of pursuers hurry through less swiftly. Clambering and clamouring straight through the crowd so clumsily, the Chancellery Guard prove their incompetence for onlookers to witness.

"Come back here you little runt!" cries the Castellan angrily into the crowd.

In the embrace of the dirt-filled alley a young boy in red and orange robes emerges from the shadows. He is smiling gleefully, a prize in his hand. Something is wrapped tightly in a silk cloth underneath his fingers but it is exposed a little to the sunlight and it betrays the glimmer of jewels. The light dances off it as beautifully as can be.

"There he is!" roars the Castellan as he spots the light and the thief.

The smile does not vanish from the boy's face but simply spreads wider. He runs again and is a blur once more. The guards give chase, spreading and snaking their way through the masses, taking different routes. The boy is fast and dances his way through the streets. He knows this dance. He has danced it a hundred times before. And he knows this city. This is his city. He would not be captured so easily.

Over and under the crates, run pass into the shop houses, up into storeroom, behind the narrow ledge, climb down from the window...Far too easy.

But the guards are many and he is alone. They cut off his little passageways and block his alleys. He is funnelled and surrounded and his back against a wall. The crowds move away from him and he is isolated. The guards begin to gather around him and close in. Their eyes are lit with delight at the thought of his imminent capture. They have been waiting for this for a very long time.

But from the shadows, a small hand reaches out and grabs the boy's own. The boy turns and looks. It is another boy. They recognise each other, though they do not know one another. Not yet. He is caught unaware but a quick word and moment is shared.

"Run!"

They run and disappear down a new alley the boy has never seen before. His saviour is running ahead of him. Laughing as he ran. Enjoying the chase as much as he did. His laughter is high and full.

The two ran and ran at full pelt, chuckling as they did. They did not stop for what seemed to both like hours and ages at the time. The fun seemed to not end, but finally, when they were rid of their pursuers, they stopped and talked with what breath left that they could gather.

"Who are you?" asks the boy to his saviour, wheezing cheerfully.

His saviour does not reply but simply flashes a smile and breathlessly shakes his head. He pants back to him dismissively, "No, no. I saved you. Who are -you-?" He jabs a finger in his direction and waits for a reply silently.

The boy hesitates but relents. "They call me the Master."

"Nice name."

"I thought so too," the boy replies.

"I'm the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor. I don't know why. I call me the Doctor too. Still don't know why. Nice to meet you though Master."

"Nice to meet you too," he answers in earnest and the two shake hands. Though secretly he thinks the Doctor talks too much and he's only just introduced himself.

"Now tell me, what have you got there in your hand?"

And now secretly he thinks the Doctor is too wise for his own sake.

The vision blurs and the edges that give shape burns with light. Everything in sight now pools into a bright white blankness and there is nothing. Only the memories.

The old man awakens, his eyes open to find himself in a new world. A different world. Momentarily he had wondered if he was awake or sleeping, still in the swift-moving dream in which he had been wrapped. His hearts are heavy as he realises it is not Gallifrey. The burnt orange sky is gone, replaced with one that is a vivid and deep blue. The Master looked around to see a city of large black taxis, huge red buses, bright red post-boxes, grassy green parks and buildings of old red bricks. An impossible city of old and new meeting in a great collision of coincidences with aged cemeteries and churches sitting and nudged away slightly awkwardly next to great glittering noisy shops and restaurants. It teemed and overflowed with people of every colour, language and kind inhabiting it as noisily, cheerfully and incomprehensibly as they liked with no apparent semblance of order.

"Oh no, not this place again," groaned the Master.

A huge and lumbering mess of noise and contradictions, London was as ever a busy place today. Especially with that huge dragon tearing through the sky with a strange familiar man dangling from it, clutching for his dear lives left to live.

"Ah well Doctor, dust off your Converse. Time to save the Universe."

* * *

A streak of light and flame tore through the sky, a blaze of yellow dragon breath shooting with no real aim or purpose besides anger. The world was rushing by and the wind sang loudly in the Doctor's ears as he struggled to hang on. His arms and legs wrapped tightly around the scaly tail that thrashed about incessantly. He could see nothing but the wheeling bright light reflecting off of London's shiniest glass windows beneath him.

"Enjoying the flight Doctor?" taunted the dragon who simply did not have a name. They just called him Bob.

"Hah! Some flight," roared back the Doctor bravely. "No peanuts? No Stallone movie?"

"Do not make me laugh, Doctor."

"I wouldn't dare to Bob. Not when you've got such big teeth."

A spurt of flame shot across him scorching and burning away the tips of his spiky mess of brown hair.

"Oi!"

"And stop calling me Bob!"

Then Bob, seeking to remove this unwanted passenger aboard his tail, gathered himself together, wings stretched, unravelled and shot away, and the world flowed over him like a roaring wind. The Doctor braced himself, gritted his teeth, furrowed his eyebrows and fastened himself as tight as he could as they sped forth, his great long jacket flapping wild and mad. This was simply not his preferred form of transportation.

They climbed higher and higher, through wisps of chilling cold clouds, rolling and turning sharply in mid-air as the Doctor struggled to hang on with the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a great windmill.

Just then, as the Doctor began sliding and slipping off the metallic scales and he looked below to see he was too far to even make out the ground, a familiar and comforting sound grew. An ancient sound and unlike any other to be heard elsewhere in the Universe. A wheezing-groaning noise of a legendary blue box. Relief washed over him and lifted his two hearts.

In the middle of the sky he saw it. Saw it materialise. The clouds around where it would be whipped about and dissipated as the winds rushed even greater. A beacon of light shone and the Doctor knew he was saved. Well, sort of.

Bob roared at the sight of it fully formed ahead of him and opened his mouth full of rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. Ruinous fire shot out and streaked its way towards the TARDIS but the flames did not harm it. In fact, it did not even touch the surface.

"Extrapolator shielding," exclaimed the Doctor through gritted teeth. It was mighty cold but his chest was beaming with pride. "Fantastic!"

"Hah, impressive indeed," cried Bob the fearsome dragon without a fearsome name.

"Your legend precedes you Lord of Time."

"I hope it's the good stories about me they're still telling," the Doctor shouted back, his voice slowly drowning in the wind as Bob sped away from the TARDIS which soon followed suit. "But you know what else is impressive?"

"What?" asked the dragon flames still gushing from his mouth as he spoke.

"This."

Then the temperature drops and it's not just the air. Bob's bones can feel the unnatural bite of the cold and barely notices the Doctor jump off him, seemingly plummeting down to Earth with a smile on his face. Bob wonders what else the Doctor has planned. Then he hears the mighty booming of ionic pulse fusion engines above him and he looks up and finally gets it.

Great gleaming Judoon ships sprang up and out of from the shadowy depths of cloud cover; and when they saw the dragon they roared with priming their laser cannons. The white clouds trailed and streamed off the magnificent vertical ships as they blasted forwards, the great hum of their engines echoing off one another.

It seemed like a great chorus of war trumpets, and their notes gathered into one voice and sent it rolling and beating on the hulls of their galactic ships.

Meanwhile, the Doctor fell spiralling through the air, completely out of control, sucked towards the Earth. He had no idea which way was up, which down but he didn't need to. Almost instantly a hand grabbed tightly him by the arm.

"Hang on Dad!" cried a voice that died in the noise above it.

More hands reached out to grab him by the collar and by his long brown coat, pulling him in as hard as they could. With all the strength combined, the Doctor managed to pull his way back in, stumble and collapse back into the TARDIS face first. The Doctor decided this was probably how being a fish feels like when they get reeled in onto the boat. It was decidedly, not comfy.

"Okay, we're never doing that again," wheezed Ivy, blowing away her hair from her face though a graceful smile did shine through her beautiful pale round face.

"Agreed," said the Doctor as his own face adjusted to the cold metal floor of the TARDIS. Then, he felt an uncomfortable squirming underneath him that was not of his own body.

"Doctor, could you get off me now?" asked a muffled voice of a young boy.

"Oh sorry," replied the Doctor as he rolled over immediately onto his back revealing Matt underneath the coat. A little puff of dust and smoke rose from the coat as he did.

"Ow," whimpered Matt slightly, his face now full of soot and sweat but his bright eyes still lit with life.

"Did we get him though?" asked Jenny, as she stayed by the open door of the TARDIS, staring upwards, her blonde long hair flapping about in the breeze. Ivy and Matt rushed forwards alongside her to see.

The Doctor too looked up to see the commotion above, but decided he was content enough to just sit and see what was happening from where he was. His limbs were mostly numb and nerves still tingling from the flight and resulting fall.

Up above, there were a dozen or more Judoon ships, each as tall as a skyscraper but moving far swifter than you expected, under the employ of the Shadow Proclamation, revealing themselves and surrounding Bob the dragon in a tight circle, covering both above and below so he had no chance of escape.

The dragon turned around in the ever tightening circle roaring angrily and shooting jets of fire straight at each of them but it only barely singed their surface. In return the ships shot out a red beam of light that encased and froze the dragon like a statue. A statue in the middle of the sky. It was a sight to behold.

"I want one of those," declared Matt sounding avid.

"You're never going to be able to steal that," said Ivy. "It'll never fit inside a pocket."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," interjected the Doctor. "Depends on the type of pocket really."

They laughed cheerfully though unsure of whether it was a joke or a simple statement of fact.

The Doctor then quietly turned back to the controls of the TARDIS and prepared to land her. It would be a nice comfort to be on solid ground finally he had thought to himself. And as he joyfully pulled cranks and levers, kicked and punched the buttons, and when no one seemed to be watching, it started.

Without warning, as the TARDIS dematerialised from the sky, the Doctor's head burned with intense blinding pain as something flashed across his mind like a bright light on water. For a brief moment he saw the vortex and the fractures and the cracks across the universe, before suddenly it all disappeared as abruptly as it came, as though nothing had happened…

He shook it off and in an instant, remembered nothing of it.

* * *

Author's Note : This was a very fun chapter to write. And it's important we have fun. Cos things are gonna get bad real quick...


	4. Chapter Two : Another Crack in the Wall

**Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child**

**Chapter Two : Another Crack in the Wall Pt. 1**

_"Your imagination is your preview of life's coming attractions." - Albert Einstein _

The noise grew in volume, a harsh unearthly scraping sound. The wind about the area increasing in sympathy, whipping and clearing nearby leaves and litter until a large blue box screamed into existence in the middle of an empty alley in London with a great big thud. That brand new ancient blue magic box. Big and tiny at the same time and the bluest blue ever. So odd, so out of place and so out of time just sitting there in the corner of the alley.

But nobody noticed. Nobody ever did. Not unless they really wanted to.

The TARDIS criss-crosses the world, making it right, making it strange, and the people never sees its' coming or going. Why should they? The travellers in the time and space travelling blue box don't ever try to get noticed.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN ME! IT WAS BRILLIANT," cried a young woman's voice from the depths of the blue box.

Well…most of the time.

Inside the TARDIS, there was a gathering around the main console and a fervent conversation was taking place as Jenny Anna Molly (Short for 'Generated Anomaly' – She had extended her name for legal matters involving a bet, Casanova, a chicken and several angry Zygons) was describing their latest adventure in animated detail. Extremely animated detail. With mouth-made sound effects and everything.

Her arms waved about happily without restraint and the joy spread over her face was radiating throughout into every faraway corner of the TARDIS. Her beautiful blonde hair, tied in a ponytail trailed and danced after her every jump of joy as she recounted her latest heroic battle against a dragon.

"And then I flew the TARDIS right up to where you were falling and bam! Caught you just like that," she enthused cheerfully, her eyes shining in the light of the time column that rose and fell gently like soft quiet breaths of the TARDIS. It even hummed rhythmically to each rise and fall and the time machine felt more responsive, more organic, and seemingly more alive than it ever had before.

"Yes, about that," said the Doctor carefully, his eyebrows furrowed with deep concern as he sat on the control panels, staring and fiddling with the controls apprehensively, "Where did you learn how to fly like that?"

"The instruction manual," she answered serenely, shrugging her shoulders. She turned a few knobs and pressed a few keys- just to show she knew how. The TARDIS made a responsive chime- like a cat purring its content.

"But I threw away the manual," he refuted incredulously, scratching his head as he took off and threw away his large brown coat to hang by his favourite coral pillar.

"Well it came back," she replied smiling. "Found it in the library."

"Came back?" asked the Doctor. His voice had gone squeaky and high pitched again. "What do you mean it came back? I specifically told it to stay out."

"It's just a book," interrupted Ivy impatiently, who was still in the middle of getting her windswept hair under control again. It had disagreed with riding on the back of an angry dragon who disagreed with them riding on his back in return. "So what if it came back? Personally I think all books should do that. It'd be great if they did."

"No it wouldn't!" cried the Doctor and Matt together across the opposite sides of the console looking offended.

There was a self-aware and indignant yet awkward mix of silence before it shattered into collective laughter. The Doctor broke into a wide grin, ruffling his messy brown hair into more of mess before bouncing on a seat and letting his feet rest atop the console. He seemed distracted as he stared out into the blank space above where one living in the normal world expected there to be a ceiling, instead of an unending stretch of the room.

"Only books that should come back to where they belong are library books," said Matt slightly disgruntled.

"So is that why you never bring your textbooks to school?" asked Ivy, an eyebrow raised in Matt's direction giving him a meaningful look. Suddenly, Matt's ears turned bright red and he seemed very preoccupied with staring at the tear in the poorly sunken seat and picking away at the insides.

They laughed again and so did Jenny, but staring at the others, she slipped into reminiscence. A warmth filled her two hearts. It had been a long time since they came back to Earth. She was fond of it. It _felt_ like home, no matter what the century. This was where she found her father again. Where she had met Matt and Ivy. She began to drift blindly around the console room, flipping switches and picking at controls as she remained in her memories of a fleeting time not too long past.

She recounted that Matt and Ivy had called this place and time home. This knowingly despite the fact that they didn't truly have a home. They were orphans, just young children from different families, but growing up together they became like family. The only kind of family they could have ever had in such an abandoned state of loss. But they persevered and triumphed together. And they had then extended that family of two by tagging albeit forcefully along with the Doctor when they first encountered him on the fateful trip to Cardiff. Jenny remembered that day quite clearly. The day where they drove back the darkness and the ruin of a black shadow above. The Rani's peril from the sky.

But it has indeed been a long time. Jenny couldn't figure out how long precisely. Life inside the TARDIS blurred and confounded things. She couldn't even keep track of her own birthday – not that she really had a birth. But she knows it has indeed been a long time passed since they all first met.

Everyone had grown so much _closer_. They knew one another so well; how they thought and acted. And on their adventures, they moved and worked like a precise timepiece. Very different from when they first met. Now the four of them had forged a beautiful partnership. They were almost like a real family. Some people said that the sky was the limit. Jenny thought they were wrong. For them, the sky was only just the beginning...

* * *

Then, a phone rang.

It echoed loudly in the vast halls of the TARDIS and everyone but Jenny turned to stare at the main console. She seemed lost in her own serene thoughts, still drifting around the console, unaware of the ringing phone. The others froze and allowed the phone to ring again before Ivy finally spoke.

"Is that a _phon_e?" she asked quizzically. "People _phone_ you?"

She looked in puzzlement for the phone on the console centre. Ivy didn't know what to think. She would have thought that having lived in the TARDIS for so long, she would have at the very least seen, heard or known of the existence of a phone in the premises by now. However the machine had never failed to continually surprise and amaze its occupants. Ivy noticed that once in a while, even the Doctor gets pleasantly surprised by it.

"Well it _is_ a phone box after all," the Doctor replied rather gravely, staring at the now obvious phone, still unanswered. He scrambled to his feet, pacing up and down, mind whirring, trying to think of who on earth - or other various planets - could be calling him.

"Were you expecting a call?" Ivy inquired, eyebrows raised, now looking to the Doctor.

"No," said the Doctor startled, his eyes flickered towards her and away again as Matt spoke.

"Martha maybe?" suggested Matt, shrugging

"What? On her _honeymoon_?" the Doctor said dismissively, waving his suggestion away.

"Well...I suppose not," retracted Matt.

"The Queen?" asked Ivy. It was a reasonable possibility, considering the Doctor's obvious contributions to the safety and security of the British people in essentially every time period. It was a bit curious how he was always available to help with every little problem in London. Well, except for the Great Fire. That according to him was due to some silly little lizards with some silly little guns.

"Which one?" countered the Doctor with alarm in his voice. Ivy laughed, thinking had Elizabeth the First had found his phone number, he'd definitely disconnect the phone for good. The Doctor turned to her, his face betraying a slight fear.

"You don't have to be so scared," she continued. "I really doubt good old Good Queen Bess would ring us. Not that she can. She doesn't have a phone."

"Never stopped King Henry," replied the Doctor simply. "Or William Wallace. Or William the Bloody. Blimey. Too many people know my number. Does the psychic paper give it out or something?"

"I suppose we can just sit here and be witty all day _or_ we could answer it," suggested Ivy impatiently. There was a moment of silence where everyone merely stared at the ringing phone as if it were a modern art exhibit that none of them could figure out.

"I vote witty," answered Matt.

"Me too," said the Doctor.

"Me three," said Ivy slightly exasperatedly.

Suddenly the ringing stopped. They turned to see Jenny, who had been in her own dreamy thoughts, cheerfully with phone in hand, completely oblivious to the situation.

"Hello, can we help you? Tell me we can help you!" she cried happily. She bounced slightly as she spoke, giving her the look of a slightly ridiculous Barbie doll.

"She never listens to me anymore," informed the Doctor despairingly to the rest as they stared at her. "I feel old..._er_."

"Dad, it's the Shadow Proclamation," informed Jenny avidly as she looked up smiling.

"That's _great_!" lied the Doctor with tremendously forced enthusiasm. "Well put her on then."

"Oh cool," added Matt sarcastically, his eyes rolling high and possibly into the back of his skull. "We get to watch the Shadow Architect and you argue again. Oh, the joy. You can see it on my face."

You couldn't; it was nonexistent.

Jenny returned her father a smile and eagerly set about tapping keys at the console. Ivy noticed for the first time that she now began to operate it nearly as fast as her father - and with just as much glee. A buzz and a ring were heard and a few of the lights blinked in sync before a toweringly monstrous projection of an imposing Judoon sprang into life right before them. Surprised, Matt gave a tiny shriek as he lunged across the room from his seat.

"That's not a _her_," murmured the Doctor as he watched the great creature with interest and smiled. It was a strange, inscrutable smile that took a second or two to reach his eyes. The Judoon's own beady little eyes was blinking stupidly, nostrils flaring and head craned to one side as though confused and unsure. No sound came from the image as they stared at it busily tapping away at large orb-like buttons, tiny eyes staring back at them in eerie silence.

"How can you tell?" asked Matt as he struggled to get up from the floor, rubbing his forehead painfully.

"Females don't have the - big long _thingie_," whispered back the Doctor, awkwardly gesturing a horn with his hand on his nose.

"Well, duh," said Matt, paying no attention to the strange sight.

"No, really," muttered the Doctor. "They don't have the-uhm, thing."

He continued miming a horn on his nose, wiggling his fingers as an added aid.

"Oh, right," realised Matt stupidly. "Antlers." Ivy nudged him painfully in the side.

"Close," winced the Doctor slightly, as though the word was sharp in his throat. "Horn."

Ivy let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh as he watched Matt's small face crumple with concentration, mouth ajar. Then, the brief silence was shattered by a buzzing sound like angry hornets in a tin. The image of the Judoon began to speak.

"To-Flo-No-Mok-Hello?" the speakers crackled and screeched like fearsome thunder, carrying the bellowing voice of the large creature. "Is this thing on? Mister Doctor sir?"

"Uhm..._present_?" said the Doctor sounding nervous as they all looked worriedly at one another.

"Greetings Doctor," said the Judoon as he bent to what seemed like a bow before resuming his panicky demeanour. Glancing fervently over his shoulder before continuing. "My name is Toruk Tor."

"Pleased to meet you Toruk Tor," replied the Doctor politely, though his tone hinted at suspicion. The Doctor scratched his cheek, scrutinising the Judoon slowly, as though taking in as much visual detail and information to process in that astounding brain of his. Ivy suspected that his head was possibly much like the TARDIS - bigger on the inside.

"I have urgent questions to ask you Doctor. She is still inspecting the time field anomalies. We have not much time. As I am the last of the Judoon I must warn-"

But Toruk Tor was interrupted and there was an immediate sudden silence.

"What _are_ you doing?" screamed a shrill voice from beyond their view. "Get away from the communicator you _stupid_ _animal_. Get away!"

Toruk Tor turned behind as the projection of the Shadow Architect, her albino pale skin and hair at sharp contrast with her sharp black robes, entered the scene, as though from an aged film, looking utterly furious. Her red dagger eyes flashing as she pointed her thin pale finger at Toruk Tor in dire accusation. Ivy could not blame the large beast for retreating several steps as she marched closer and closer to him.

"Please, I wish to-"

"I _order_ you to get away from the communicator at once!" screamed the Shadow Architect sharply and Ivy swore the floor trembled.

Toruk Tor glanced at the others fleetingly as though considering a plea for help, but Ivy could only manage a mere grimace in her own helplessness. The Doctor stood quiet, taking in the scene with an expression of some benign interest, though his eyes seemed faraway and distant.

"I...obey," he said quickly, not wishing to risk further angering the Shadow Architect as he bowed his oversized head to her and trudged away noisily. The large shape then disappeared from projection in a blue flash as it walked right through Matt and out of view. An alarmed Matt shivered as the image walked right through him.

"My apologies Doctor for that..._inconvenience_," said the Shadow Architect much more quietly, though her expression remained stony and her eyes still like daggers.

"What's going on?" the Doctor asked urgently. His brows contracted and now concern spread across his face.

"It is nothing important," she dismissed hastily. She seemed reluctant to approach the subject that the Doctor was pressing towards. "It is of very little value for us to engage in another tirade of-"

"He said he was the last of the Judoon," interjected the Doctor, his hands now curled up into a foreboding fist. Ivy noted the increase in aggression and volume in their speech. It was clear there was probably already some pre-existing tension between the two. "I'd like to know-"

"This is an internal matter of the Shadow Proclamation," she screamed. "I cannot _possibly_ discuss such things with you."

"Yes well, but, you owe me," said the Doctor, seizing an opportunity to attack the proud Architect. "Caught your prisoner for you didn't I?"

"It is absolutely nothing of concern," she replied tartly, still attempting to salvage her situation. However, her evaporating confidence was beginning to show on her face. Her expression was softening.

"Tell me anyways," insisted the Doctor forcefully. His sharp ancient eyes boring into the skull of the Shadow Architect though his expression was a lie of playfulness. "Just a bit of banter about nothing then. You know how I _love_ to talk."

He smiled at her and her resolve began to break. Her stern face softened further, though in ever the slightest way.

"Toruk Tor is a youngling and simply mistaken and confused," she said slowly. Her eyes darted here and there, anywhere and everywhere, so long as it did not meet another pair. Ivy noticed how the Shadow Architect began fiddling with her fingers in apparent embarrassment, like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar. It seemed so far past, the intimidation she wielded to command and order a Judoon twice her own size. "He is _not_ the last of the Judoon as he so adamantly believes."

"But?"

"However, he is the last of the Judoon still under our employ," admitted the Shadow Architect thickly. "He has always been an outsider even amongst his bond brothers."

"What happened to the rest?" asked the Doctor, egging her along.

"Several months ago, for reasons not made clear to us, the sizeable Judoon battalion force of the Shadow Proclamation illegally left our employ."

"_What_? What does that mean?"

"They marched out, commandeered a ship and simply _left_," admitted the Shadow Architect annoyed, a slight edge to her voice.

"Just like that?" the Doctor asked with a little start. "Didn't you try to stop them?"

"Have you ever tried to stop a Judoon march Doctor?" she snapped back aggressively. Her emotion was now left unchecked, and she continued in a pleading voice of desperation. "We were outnumbered and overpowered and they knew it. They simply _walked_ out. What could we do?"

"Where are they now?" the Doctor demanded.

"We do not know and I for one certainly do not care," growled the Shadow Architect angrily, looking up and raising herself a little higher." But if you must know, we lost contact with the vessel as it reached the Outer Regions and they simply disappeared near the Felucian Asteroid Field. Possibly and hopefully taken down by the pirates. Ever since they abandoned us, we have been lacking in manpower and unfortunately, have had to resort to hiring others for help in enforcing the laws of the Shadow Proclamation."

The quiet TARDIS seemed to hum darkly with the recent revelation and only the Doctor seemed to make any sound as he began puzzling together all the pieces in his head.

"Like me," he said.

"Yes," she confessed finally, the agreement seemingly difficult to utter. "We had no other choice. We couldn't find anyone else _qualified _to capture a dragon. Not anyone _trustworthy_ at any rate."

"Ooh, I'm _trustworthy_," responded the Doctor smugly, tugging away at his own collar and grinning at Jenny. She laughed in response.

"I disagreed with the Council on that matter," cut the Architect brusquely. "Need I remind you that by Galactic Law you are still a wanted criminal in the eyes of the Shadow Proclamation?"

Her eyes flashed maliciously and her expression turned to one of savage pleasure.

"Oh," said the Doctor taking a step back before a sudden and painful realization hit him. "Wait. Does this mean I get a Wanted poster? With my face and everything?"

He suddenly punched both hands triumphantly in the air and declared, "I've always wanted a wanted poster! That'd be _brilliant_."

"You have a list of charges that would fill halls in your TARDIS," she protested vehemently.

"Which face though?" chattered on the Doctor distractedly, in a world entirely of his own vivid imagination. "Is it this one? Not big ears I hope. And how high's my bounty?"

"Doctor!" snapped the Shadow Architect, silencing him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Let us return however, to the _real_ purpose of this call."

"Let's," he agreed.

"Prisoner 1404 is exercising his right to one call/transmission - and it is to _you_."

"Prisoner 1404?"

"The dragon," she sighed impatiently.

Nothing registered.

"Bob."

"Ohhh," realized the Doctor, perking up once more. "Put him on then! Good old Bob."

"He shall receive you in a few moments," said the Shadow Architect, annoyed.

* * *

The projection of the gigantic dragon filled the main console room, imposing its presence upon them all. Its great spiky wings, folded to its body, would have completely filled the room had it been spread, and when it reared its large serpentine head towards them, it broke into a ghastly roar like the falling of the walls of Jericho, making the entire TARDIS tremble. Several bookcases in the library toppled over and drowned in the swimming pool. Whilst Ivy clearly knew that it was simply a projection, it still brought her to a complete standstill, sweat pouring down her forehead. She noticed that Matt and the often calm Jenny too were rooted to the ground. Only the Doctor seemed indifferent to the beast's presence and intimidation - he acted as though to him it was merely a nuisance of a thing. Like a buzzing fly.

The dragon was tethered to the ground by metal cuffs borne on each of its legs, with chains leading to massive pegs bolted to the scorched metal floor. Its ugly head turned to face the Doctor, gleaming ruby eyes staring down at him, razor sharp teeth baring. Ivy took a step away, but the Doctor remained steadfast and flashed his own teeth in a retaliatory wide white smile.

"Doctor," growled the dragon hoarsely as flames sputtered from his mouth and nostrils.

"Ah, Bob my friend," replied the Doctor happily. "How are you?"

"Chained and imprisoned thanks to you," said the dragon, shaking his scaly body and rattling his chains.

"Well, that's hardly my fault, is it?" exclaimed the Doctor cheerily. "You've been a naughty boy. I saw your record. Arson-"

"_Naturally _I'd think," replied the dragon sarcastically, snorting harmless projection of embers at the Doctor, which melted away into nothingness upon contact. The Doctor ignored it and pressed on with the impressive list of charges he was reading from the top of his head, lips pursed to one side in profound concentration.

"-perjury; piracy; pilfering and _my_ personal favourite, impersonating a clergy of the Church of Octavius."

The dragon laughed heartily, scales bristling like fur and chains ringing against each other. "Oh yeah. Heh. That was a good one." he commented nonchalantly as Ivy gave a shout of surprise when the heavy chains fell with a crash where her feet were a second ago.

"So really, you can't blame me you're going to be locked up in Stormcage for the rest of your life," said the Doctor.

"Well indeed," agreed the dragon simply, swinging its massive head around, noticing and acknowledging the others. Ivy felt as though it had been surreptitiously glancing at her. "But I didn't call you to _blame_ you. I called to _congratulate_ you."

"Congratulate me?" the Doctor asked as he took a small step forward, straightening himself. Ivy noticed the rare tone of surprise.

"Yes," nodded the dragon. "You and your child. I was impressed with what I saw. Such skill and will to outwit me. The legends about you are true Time Lord."

"Well...thank you. I think."

"And the young child of Time," added the dragon in a businesslike voice, as it turned to face Jenny, eyes narrowing as though x-raying her. "I could sense a touch of _destiny_ about her. One should hope there will be legends about her as well."

There was a pause.

"Thank you Bob," replied Jenny awkwardly, though the dragon did not elaborate. Its lips seemed to curl into a placid smile and noticed Ivy staring at it. Then she had the strangest feeling it winked at her.

"If ever there is a time, perhaps soon, I would gladly fight alongside you in battle."

"I would hope that time never comes," said the Doctor.

"I'm afraid that is not possible," said the dragon, as casually as if they had asked it about the next day's weather. "That time will definitely come."

"Why?"

"Have you not heard the great silence?"

"Great silence?"

The dragon bowed and shook its head as though disappointed.

"Silence will fall, Doctor," said the dragon gravely. Its eyes glowed a brighter shade of scarlet as it spoke the words, reared up its head, graceful and gleaming in the light, moved closer to the Doctor as though to whisper into his very ears. "There is a gathering gloom at the edge of the Universe. Something festers in the heart of that darkness. Something you have failed to see. An ancient master of time has returned through the fractures and cracks in the wall of the worlds. Children of time, beware his approach. He comes closer and closer still."

Then the comms died and the vast dragon that filled the room vanished in a bright flash of blue light. Silence spread outwards like cold freezing ripples. Nobody moved from where they stood, still trying to understand what had been said.

Then somebody knocked on the door.

_"Knock, knock, knock, knock."_

All heads turned and the echoes of the dragon's words rang in their ears.

_"He comes closer and closer still..."_

_

* * *

_

She was alone in her room, sat by her desk. The open window letting the endless rain pour in, the cold wind rushing and flapping the curtains angrily.

But she made no notice of this. Her head was in excruciating agony.

"I remember," said Donna Noble, her lips trembling as she sank to her knees.

* * *

**Authors Notes :**

Pink Floyd reference in title – check

Deathly Hallows movie reference/antlers – check

Doctor Who Series 5 mysterious connections – check

Crazy ass cliff hanger(s) – booyah!

Tune in next time, for less talk, more action with your favourite Master. Ooooh.


	5. Chapter Three : A Descending Shadow

**Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child**

**Chapter Three : A Descending Shadow **

"_Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkable difficult to kill__" - Neil Gaiman_

From behind Donna's eyes, gold light spun, images burst and then shattered. Memory after memory, few of them actually hers, flew through her feverish brain. Crumbling, unfolding, and, god, _burning_.

Donna didn't realize she'd been gaping, her mouth open in a silent scream as the rain poured in. Sweat dripped off her forehead, her bangs now plastered to her head as she suffered quietly. She fought it, her perseverance winning out as her hands shot to cradle her aching mind. She whimpered as the whirl of memories grew ever hotter.

"Shaun," she barely got the word out as the burning spread to her entire body. It wasn't loud enough. She could barely think past the heat, the fire, the blaze of the pain. She summoned up every last ounce of the fire, used to launch herself into action. She needed someone who could help, and now. "SHAUN!" Her scream echoed through the house.

Seconds later, Shaun came dashing around the corner. He gasped. She was glowing a bright gold. Her skin shimmered with energy, sparked at every joint. She was kneeling on the ground, sweating profusely, eyes unfocused as she clutched her head. Shaun fought the urge to scream.

Donna's hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Shaun recoiled; she was sizzling to the touch.

Donna fought for the strength to speak, but she found it. She fought it. Her head boiled, but she said quickly, "Shaun. Love. Stay calm. I'll be alright if you do exactly what I tell you."

"Donna, you're burning!" Shaun's voice trembled as he looked at her. Her eyes locked onto his, hers no more the warm brown, but rather a deep shade of powerful gold.

"I need to be put into stasis. Get me some pomegranate juice from the fridge, mix in some cinnamon, and then crush up an aspirin and mix it in. I need to drink that all down, then get me the taser granddad bought me last Christmas from my drawer. I have strength as long as I know I can count on you."

She let go of Shaun's hand and collapsed on the floor, her hands flying back up to her temples. Shaun took off and searched the kitchen desperately. He obediently grabbed the various supplies, unsure of what exactly it was all for, and came back to her, drink in one hand, battery and jumper cables in the other. Donna pulled herself up to grab the drink, which she downed in an instant, excess spilling on her bright pink shirt.

Instantly, she stood, as though she had regained her strength in part. Waves of energy rippled over her skin yet, distorting her image.

"Ahhh yes, the sugar and cinnamon reacting perfectly together with the aspirin spiralling my system into a state of immobile neuropsychitraxis. Now. For the just _right _tinge of energy shock, I can normalize my neural pathways and function properly. Well... For now," she held out her hand for the taser that was placed there immediately, as Shaun looked on, clueless.

Donna held the taser up, braced herself and within a second, giving him a wink and before Shaun could scream against what she was about to do, she shocked herself in the legs as a bright white electrical current ran through and enveloped her and she was in an instant, on the ground. Shaun knelt down beside her, worried as the glowing sparks faded and flickered before finally disappearing altogether.

"Donna? Donna!" He called. He held her hand desperately, ignoring the slight shocks he experienced, as he wondered what the hell had just happened, and if she could have survived it. The heat subsided from her hands, and she grew cold. Shaun lowered his head, hoping to kiss her one last time...

Her eyes snapped open and she kissed him first. She forced him upright until they were standing opposite each other. The rain continued to pour in.

"Well, first things first, shut the bloody window," she said, breathing heavily. Shaun grinned.

"I could care less about the window when I'm wondering if you're even alive," he said, relief spreading through him.

"You're too sweet to me sometimes, honestly. Now shut the window! You've gotta get me to London. It's the Doctor. He needs me."

* * *

The sky had changed dramatically. It had only been a few minutes since there had been bright, glorious sunlight. But now, busy swearing-under-their-breath Londoners were greeted by fresh claps of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. The crowds were now breaking and hidden under a sea of flapping newspapers held overhead as their best improvised protection against the rain. Heads were bowed down against the ferocious wind, with umbrellas being whipped out of their hands.

But the rain did not diminish his delight. As he made his way to the TARDIS, the Master was singing, dancing along the alleyway, arms waving, feet tapping and hips shaking to the strange tune of the ferocious rain falling onto pavement. He sang loud and proud over the din and clamour, drumming to himself as he did:

_There's a drumming noise inside my head,  
It starts when you're around  
I swear that you could hear it  
It makes such an almighty sound  
Louder than sirens  
Louder than bells  
Sweeter than heaven  
And hotter than hell!_

He jumped at the finale and splashed into a large puddle of water, feet squelching happily and gesturing with both arms like a magician unveiling his latest trick. Beaming, he stared with longing at the blue box which was right in front of him.

"Oh, how I've missed you," he laughed frenetically as he swept his hand tenderly along its sides, like stroking a pet. As he touched it, a blaze of lightning streaked across the sky and the heavens poured down even heavier.

As though upon instinct or unexplainable compulsion, the Master looked up. He was squinting upwards into the downpour as it splattered on his wild features, when he saw something that distracted him completely: a crack, a fracture, a splinter clearly imprinted against the sky, frozen and unmoving.

He didn't see it clearly. Then, a single miniscule drop of rain fell into his eye and he blinked. Just for a moment. Just once. Quickly shaking his sodden blonde fringe out of his eyes, he peered back into the sky. The crack had vanished.

"Well. That was really quite vague and definitely not helpful in the slightest," he muttered bitterly, eyebrow raised at the sky as he continued to search, until finally the biting chill was too much. He pulled back the frozen, numb hand which had never left the TARDIS and knocked on the door.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

_

* * *

_

In the time she had known him, Ivy had never seen the Doctor like this. She had seen him angry, and thoughtful, and upset, but this was different. He did not speak and looked pale and drawn, and so much _older_… his boyish enthusiasm nowhere to be seen. He wore an expression she did not recognize, for she had never seen the Doctor frightened like this. What, she wondered, could scare someone so wise, so brave and so bold as the Doctor? What nightmares ran through his head?

Ivy stared into the whitened face she thought she knew so well, at the ancient faraway eyes with its infinite gaze and the messy spiky brown hair, and did not know what to do or say. They all seemed paralysed. She, only then in the silence, noticed how fast her heart was beating.

The Doctor was staring past his companions, across the console room to the aged wooden door. He was whispering to himself, his hushed words scarcely audible.

"Your song is ending soon...An ancient master of time...He will knock four times..."

Then it came again.

_"Knock, knock, knock, knock!"_  
Then the Doctor turned to his companions for aid and counsel, though he didn't speak. He didn't need to. Nor did they. They stared at one another, expressions telling tales and eyes meeting and boring into one another's minds as he faced each and every one of them. All of them, reaching a shared silent agreement.

"You want to open that door," said Ivy aloud, when his eyes fell upon hers.

It was a statement. Not a question.

He replied with a tiny hushed smile. It was a strange, inscrutable smile that took a second or two to reach his eyes, which lit his features up again and a small portion of the youthful energy and enthusiasm returned to him.

"_Well_," he dragged the word on and on, as he looked away with concern painted across his face.

"We _could_ leave," the Doctor suggested, though he didn't look convinced and those eyes still firmly fixed upon the door as he continued, "Run away. Lots more safer and appealing places to go. I mean, there are worlds out there where the sky is burning, and the sea is asleep, and the rivers dream. People made of smoke and cities made of song. You know. _That _sort of thing. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice, and somewhere else the tea's getting cold. But _wellll_, I mean, still-"

_"Knock, knock, knock, knock!"_

"Why go to all that trouble, when adventure comes _knocking_!" he roared loudly, teeth baring wildly, as he marched towards the door, mustering courage, picking up his coat and braving it on. The rest of them followed behind.

"Allons-y! Let's see who it is!"

* * *

**UNIT HQ, Geneva**  
**The Valkyrie  
**  
"He has no idea what he's getting into," growled General Anthony Adama to himself darkly, cigar smoke trailing and spiralling elegantly about himself, as his brightly lit eyes watched tentatively, the live footage of the TARDIS on the large wall-sized monitor before him. His prosthetic steely-blue eyes narrowed and the grainy image seemed to zoom in and sharpen at his will, as he focused his attention on the blonde hooded man knocking on the TARDIS door. Adama remained silent, observing and studying the man with keen interest as he inhaled his cigar deeply.

"Sir?" interrupted a voice beyond the door, accompanied by loud hurried footsteps on the cold metal floor.

Distracted, Adama blinked and turned about on his chair, and the image on the monitor flashed and died instantly. The door slid open by itself with a soft gentle hiss, and light from the corridor streamed into the unlit room, as though someone turned on the floodlights. In the middle of the doorway was a young dishevelled looking UNIT officer in his twenties, with deep panic etched across his face, sweat dripping from his brows as he clutched nervously onto a folder of documents. They were clearly stamped on the front - 'Top Secret'. The ink wasn't even dry yet.

"We've made contact," he muttered softly as though the words were heavy and they merely tumbled from his lips.

The General did not react straight away. He simply leaned back in his leather chair, behind his desk in the deep darkness, the bright eyes closing as if meditating or praying for a moment, before he hesitantly put out his cigar with loving affection. Standing up finally, he ran his old wrinkled and scarred hands through his close-cropped silver-grey hair and straightened out his uniform, then made his way quietly out of his office.

The young UNIT officer scurried behind closely as the doors closed delicately behind them, offering up the imperative papers in his hands, but the General waved it away with a lazy flick of his hand. He let out a low chuckle as he did.

The General marched on along the empty corridor, chest high and a stern expression on his face, until finally, they reached the magnificent command deck of the Valkyrie - the twin sister of the reconstructed Valiant, though with several major cosmetic differences. At the behest of General Adama, clearly. Where the Valiant was sleek and beautiful, more for the showcase of strength to others, the Valkyrie was a different beast. A true military vessel. A warship for the 21st Century.

This ship did not accommodate VIPs with expensively furnished war discussion rooms or relaxing Officer lounges. Nor did it have an elegantly decorated command deck of African Blackwood flooring like the Valiant. Instead, the command bridge was designed with small, busy, dual crew pits where several dozen operators and pilots were stationed to control the ship's most important functions and reported to the General who patrolled and hounded the deck above them.

As the General entered the command deck, he was saluted by the Valkyrie's new second-in-command, Colonel Alan Mace.

"Sir!" greeted Colonel Mace immediately.

"At ease," replied Adama tersely as he looked out of the observation deck, not meeting the Colonel's eye nor returning his salute. Ignoring almost all the frantic movement and commotion on the deck itself, he simply stared out into the sky and at the carrier bay where hundreds of busy engineers, mechanics and pilots ran about at full pelt preparing their forces and attack fighters for deployment. Jet engines blazing, turbolaser turrets testing and all getting into assault position.

"Thank you sir. Operation Knightfall is in effect. The time field anomalies are-"

"Where?" interrupted Adama quickly.

"London, sir," answered Mace promptly, as he put up a large hologram of the Earth in the middle of the deck. As the blue projection spun, glowing red dots started to appear across the globe. "But there are others. They're significantly smaller in scale time fields, beginning to open elsewhere, all around the world. Mostly above major cities and other densely populated areas."

"When?" urged the General further.

"The data indicates… red alert is in an hour at most."

"Then, activate all units," barked Adama, suddenly very loud. Heads in the crew pits turned, forgetting the machinery they were manning. "Prepare them to engage the enemy. I want every UNIT Corps out on the field, in full force, before these aliens break into our atmo. And set us a course for London."

"It's already being done sir," informed Mace. "We are at full speed and will rendezvous with the Valiant in London within an hour."

"That's too slow," growled Adama, his patience diminishing. "Inform Colonel Augustus Oduya, to set a perimeter around the city and plan an immediate assault upon the enemy. And move the troops from Snowdon to reinforce and support them. It'll be of no use to have our enemy spread out and gone before we even arrive. I want assault, support and defensive forces in the Ops Area immediately."

"Colonel Oduya is currently assisting in evacuating the Royal family as well as Parliament sir," answered Mace. "The Tower of London base is now under the charge of Captain Erisa Mugambo."

"Then get her prepared."

"Yes sir."

"One more thing though."

"Sir?"

"Activate Delta Force."

There was a silence, as the gravity of the words struck Colonel Mace, a monstrous guilt and fear spread from within him, wriggling to burst out screaming. He had feared to hear those exact words the moment they received news of the time fields.

"Understood sir," answered Mace gravely, recollecting himself though his shaky voice betrayed him. "And what about the …_Enhanced Operatives_? _Wade Watson_?"

"They're part of my Delta Force are they not?" muttered General Adama. "Get them prepped immediately. They're my elite strike force. They'll be the first in and last out. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck removed his helmet and set it under his arm, as he eyed his crew, the Delta Force, from afar in the observation deck, engaged in whispered argument with another man, hidden in the shadows.

"You assured me they were the best."

"They are," replied Buck.

"They don't look like it. Criminals, mercenaries, assassins... They're not soldiers."

"Exactly," answered Buck simply. "We've known war. At war, soldiers die and I don't see myself making pleasurable use of my time bringing back anymore dead bodies in the near future."

He cast an angry look towards the darkness, a gleam in his eyes.

"The only way to win is to survive, and that's who I'm bringing. Survivors."

"Then you won't mind the fact General Adama will wish to add a new member to your crew?" asked the elusive man, as he handed Buck a thick personnel file. A hand shot out of the darkness and Buck received the file apprehensively.

Buck vetted it quickly, but he didn't need to. His trained eyes and experience could see, most of the information was false and whatever was probably close to the truth were heavily redacted.

"Wade Watson?" said Buck with a mild tone of surprise, as he read. "Interesting. I've heard the stories. Mighty unpredictable, but interesting."

"Adama's mainly used him as his own private grim reaper to wipe out his enemies, but now he thinks he'd be a valuable asset to your crew here. In my opinion, he's more of a hyper-lethal vector on a map than even a person. My advice, drop him where the targets are and stand back."

"Mentally unstable and hyper lethal," said Buck dismissively. "Sounds like he'll fit right in."

"Adama's calling the shots, but just don't forget… who you're _really_ working for."

"Understood, Captain."

* * *

A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. His legs were trembling as he stumbled forwards to grab the handle of the door, head bowed and bracing himself. Then, finally, in a burst of reckless courage, the Doctor threw the doors open.

Outside, in the thundering and howling rain stood a man, utterly drenched from head to toe, who was unconcernedly joyous and sporting the widest of smiles and brightest of eyes. Then, upon seeing the Doctor, he held his arms wide open as though expectant of warm hug.

"Honey, I'm home!" he greeted them cheerfully as he put a foot forwards and attempted to enter the TARDIS. However, immediately the Doctor's hand shot straight out onto the man's chest, and pushed him gently back out again into the rain.

There were neither threats nor heated words exchanged, but Ivy knew trouble was brewing. The tension built and grew in an eye blink, and it struck them all into silence. She shuffled closer to Matt and put a protective arm around him, who uncharacteristically did not shy nor shrug away from it. Jenny made a curious expression, waiting to see what would happen, but her stance was as though she were ready to strike at any moment of danger.

The Doctor stared the wild man down, his penetrating, faraway eyes ablaze and fearsome and the mysterious man gazed back intently, unblinking. They looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing with words, but so much more in the deafening stillness. As she watched on, Ivy felt a burning desire to run from the room and, at the same time, a complete inability to move her feet.

"Master," muttered the Doctor finally. The word seemed to reverberate in the air after he had said them, though sounding neither happy nor upset.

"Doctor," replied the Master in the same calm tone and nodded.

Ivy wondered whether the two were merely acknowledging each other, and looked eagerly at the Doctor for a sign that she was right, but the Doctor did not look away. Jenny glanced from her dad to Ivy, and in the strange quelled preamble, looking at each other every so often, both of them feeling like intruders upon a dark shared secret, waiting for some explosive reveal. They drowned in the sound of rainfall, that now was dying down the longer the silence and the hush drew on.

"Well now," said the Master emphatically all of a sudden, clapping his hands together and grinning; now determinedly looking past the Doctor. "Doctor. The man of ice and fire who walked amongst the Gods and once even held the key to time in his hands-What. Is. With. The. Kids?"

"They're my friends," replied the Doctor at once, a harsh bite in his voice and still staring at the Master as though waiting for the impossible image presented before him to offer explanation.

"Weren't _we_ friends?" reminded the Master, though his voice kindly rather than accusatory.

"We lost that a long time ago."

There was no reply and it became hushed once more, till the Master couldn't bear it any longer.

"Okay, This feels slightly homoerotic now and it's weirding me out," he replied with genuine wide-eyed concern. "Is this weirding you out?"

The Doctor remained uncharacteristically mute, and Ivy felt a strange fear bubbling in her stomach, like some monstrous weighty parasite, now twisting and turning. She grabbed Matt tighter by the arm. All this time she had travelled with and known the Doctor, she never experienced him so lost for words. It was as if he had no desire to speak, nothing more to say to the strange man in front of them. The childlike eagerness and enthusiasm she knew so well was no longer there and the Doctor looked _old_ and burdened.

Jenny took a step forwards, a hand stretching out to her father's shoulder.

"Dad?"

"Dad?" cried the Master suddenly, that it made Ivy jump." Not just friends then. Knew there was a new smell. Thought it could be your cologne or something. A child! Someone's been busy, eh? What is she, half Time Lord, half human like the other one?" He let out a bark of laughter.

"What do you want?" cut the Doctor sharply.

"To talk," replied the Master directly, his maniacal laugh dropping dead and the eyes turned cold. It was as though someone muzzled the loud beast. "Inside?"

"Outside," directed the Doctor as he pointed out of the TARDIS.

The Master simply shrugged and pulled up his dark hood further, and paced around outside. The Doctor walked out into the rain, and as Jenny took a step forwards to follow, he hesitated, contemplating for a moment. But as he looked up at the rest of them, Ivy saw his lips curl into a thin smile. It was approval. They could follow. Immediately, they followed him out of the TARDIS, coats and jackets on. But oddly, they suddenly had no need of it.

"Huh," murmured the Master as he stared out into the brightening sky, eyes narrowed and a strange unreadable expression spread across his face. "The rain's stopping. Weather's acting a bit weird isn't it?"

His comments weren't explicitly directed to the Doctor, but the Doctor seemed to make extra effort in ignoring him, as he made a tremendously prolonged fuss in locking up the TARDIS. Matt came up to him whilst he fiddled with the lock.

"So, Doctor, who is this guy?" Matt whispered, unable to contain his curiosity. However, Matt's idea of a whisper was sufficiently loud enough for the new guest to hear.

"He's bad news," the Doctor stated simply, glancing sideways towards the Master as he said it.

"Cat's out of the bag on that one isn't it? Who puts cats in bags, anyway? Cats hate bags," the Master ranted to himself, still gazing up at the sky, his hands in his pockets as he waited for the Doctor to face him. The Doctor, fittingly, spun around to face him. The Master lowered his eyes once more. Ivy, Matt and Jenny walked behind, following and listening intently to every word.

They began a silent walk, broken only by the splashing of rainwater and footsteps, out of the alley into the street and to head to nowhere specific. The Doctor simply marched and turned as he pleased and Ivy concluded his only intent was to draw the Master away from his TARDIS, though the Master seemed completely aware of what he was doing. He grinned a malicious smile throughout their walk that made Ivy's spine shiver, that had no correlation to the bitter wind now howling and sweeping the streets.

After a considerable distance, the Doctor spoke once more as they continued their meandering walk, this time softer, "It's been a long time. You look old."

"Only the good die young," the Master replied quickly, though scratching his unshaven beard and dirty blonde hair. "And you know me. I've not been a Saint. Well, except for that one time as Father Christmas. People kept calling me Jeff. Weird. What about you? Been busy?"

"Not really," shrugged the Doctor nonchalant, as though speaking to an old classmate. "Did a bit of Hamlet. Just tried to stay out of trouble."

"No! You? Out of trouble?" The Master gasped and then laughed a little.

"And you're still ticking, then?"

The Master nodded, "Unfortunately for us both, Hell had no vacancies. And death is such a small impediment to me." The Master grinned wider, baring his teeth like a dog. "Did you miss me?"

"How?" cut the Doctor grimly, ignoring his jokes and jibes.

The Master's smirk left him once again. He understood the Doctor didn't come out to play and his face became stern and serious, and they stopped walking suddenly, in the middle of the pavement, letting two elderly onlookers simply pass them by, muttering something about Harold Saxon.

"The White Guardian," he announced quietly, though his expression a touch embarrassed. "I'm sort of on her payroll - or something like that anyways."

The Doctor laughed aloud by himself, taking the Master's announcement as a punch line, but the Master did not laugh in return. Instead, he kept a grave and solemn expression, eyes in a departed frosty stare. There was no sound of his terrible and haunted laugh, nor trace of the savage and malicious grin. Slowly, the Doctor's hearty amusement died down into a chuckle and finally into an awkward cough.

The Doctor stared in disbelief, looking for the first time again to Ivy, completely unaware and unsure of anything anymore. The Master made a face and rolled his eyes at him. Then, from his trouser pocket he withdrew a tiny blinding white object, which glowed and shimmered intensely like blazing starlight. It shone and blinded them so much so that they all had to shield themselves from the light at first, before the overwhelming force subsided and Ivy saw what the Master was holding between his thumb and finger. A signet ring of pure white, that glowed and pulsated with fiery energy. The Master threw it carelessly away to the Doctor, who caught it with both hands and stared at it in utter incomprehension.

"Proof," muttered the Master. "She knew you wouldn't believe."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed and glowered upon the ring in his hands. He kept turning it over repeatedly and staring upon the emblem as though it would provide words of explanation for him or suddenly burst into a practical joke the Doctor was so sure it was a second ago.

"What's your game?" asked the Doctor incredulous and disbelieving.

"Nude twister," replied the Master simply. "But maybe not with you."

"The White Guardian?"

"Not with her either," answered the Master. "And may I add - _eeew_?"

"How'd- what-" asked the Doctor as he threw the ring back to the Master, still apparently confused. He caught it in one hand and deposited it back into his pocket as the Doctor searched for questions and words beyond his grasp, instead letting the confusion wash over him.

"Does it matter how or why?" asked the Master solemnly.

The sky was clearing properly now; there was a glowing rim of a clear blue over the city tops and it was once again bright. The clouds seemed to have disappeared instantly. The light fell upon the Doctor, upon his eyebrows and sharp features, upon aged lines gouged into his face Ivy swore she never saw before.

"No," answered the Doctor wearily.

"Then you know what I'm going to ask of you," said the Master. "I need your help. The White Guardian needs your help. The Universe is in danger."

"No. Forget it," the Doctor said brusquely, shrugging away the lead-lined burden ready to be heaped unto him.

"I knew you were going to say that."

"I'm not getting involved," the Doctor seemed to be getting a little angry.

The Master looked bored, "And that."

The Doctor shook his head insistently as he began to turn back the way they came, pulling Jenny and the others along by their hands, "Whatever the Guardians are playing at, we're not going to be a part of it."

The Master cackled, "But Ben-Kenobi, you are our only hope!"

"The moment we play their game, we lose!" cried the Doctor angrily, as he turned back, finger pointed to the Master's face. "No more!"

"We've already lost everything!" growled the Master angrily, pushing the Doctor back to a shop window, startling the customers inside. Some ran out muttering curse words in their direction.

"I thought the same thing a very long time ago. Turns out, I had a lot more to lose," replied the Doctor as he pushed back the Master.

The Doctor's eyes darkened. In that moment, he seemed ancient and beyond this world. Behind him, his companions watched the exchange with concerned looks. Ivy's arm wrapped around Matt's shoulders. Jenny drew close to her friends, standing in front of them as their guard, as she watched her father's every move. However, her hands were already balled into a fist, poised to strike, though her father's expression warned her off any attack.

"It's too late," the Master said, drawing closer. "The table has been set and the game's begun. This world is... it's just so wrong. Time's been tampered with and the consequences now are...monumental."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you can't remember how I _died_," he replied, his voice strange and harsh. For a moment it sounded to Ivy as though he was suddenly _vulnerable_. That he was suddenly exposed beneath his mask…

* * *

The hangar bay doors slid open slowly, and the glorious Valkyrie's carrier spread out in front of them like a marvel. Though the chaos and the panic from the men that ran across it in every direction dulled its' magic slightly, the vastness and the majesty of it was still clear and evident.

Rows upon rows of the world's most technologically advanced fighter jets, gunships, missile launchers and laser turrets as far as the eye could see littered before them. Soldiers and mechanics racing against the clock, preparing for the doom that was to come.

In the commotion and disarray, the wintry howling wind whipped and thrashed around them as the air rushed in and Wade instinctively caught his Fedora by the very tips of his fingers before it had a chance to depart from him once again.

"You think you're ready for this?" asked John Hart loudly over the din of the wind, an eyebrow raised dismissively towards his direction.

"Hey, you think I wear these Japanese swords on my back for the heck of it?" answered Wade to the former Time Agent, who chuckled as he finished off his bottle of wine and threw it carelessly aside, narrowly missing the man next to him, kneeled down in solitary prayer, stroking his sniper rifle reflexively.

Wade stared at the man who was so calm and tranquil amidst the pandemonium.

"The righteous stand before the darkness, and the Maker shall guide their hand," he whispered to himself, eyes shut and oblivious to all others around him.

"What's with this guy?" asked Wade, as he buttoned up his sweeping leather jacket that flapped viciously in the storm.

"Seth has his own rituals," explained John, as he pulled out a cigarette. "I have mine."

"You would do well to pray your Maker guides you along the true path," answered Seth as he opened his dazzling green eyes, one emitting an unnatural glow, and stood up gracefully alongside the others. "Our mission today is fraught with complexities."

The dark giant man that towered over them, twice as tall and large as any other man, laughed with a raspy bark of a voice.

"Hah!" he exclaimed heartily as he picked up his heavy machine gun in one massive hand, as though it weighed nothing less than a feather. "That's what Adama created us _enhanced humans_ for. The _complicated _jobs."

"The three of you crazies perhaps," commented John unimpressed, as he breathed in his cigarette deeply, blowing smoke rings into the frightful breeze for his own pleasure. "The rest of us are normal."

"You're missing out then," growled Jorge as he took a step towards John, confronting him directly and being so close they could probably count each other's freckles. "Tell him what we can do Wade, Seth."

"Cut the chatter boys," interrupted Lady Christina sharply. "You two can have a good flirt later when we get back. Our ride's here."

Jorge backed down immediately, though he spat contemptuously at John. Then, from above them soared a large gunship like nothing seen before on Earth, that hovered and lowered itself down before them. As it reached the ground, the bay doors threw themselves open and two crewmen of the Valkyrie jumped out, urgently waving them in.

"This is it," exclaimed Sergeant Buck over the deafening roar of the repulsor engines and thunderous sky as he received his orders from Professor Malcolm Taylor via the comms set. "Let's move out!"

Then as they took their first step outside into the stormy dark sky, their armour and weapons shining silver by the last of the lightning flash, the Valkyrie's resounding alarms blared and echoed out the war drum's beat in every fighter's chest.

"You know the music, time to dance," growled Sergeant Buck, as he and his crew unknowingly ran out into what would be, Earth's first galactic war.

* * *

There was a pause as the Doctor and Master looked upon one another.

"You were shot. Lucy-," the Doctor started, but the Master interrupted him.

"I came back."

"I can see that."

"_No_. I came back," explained the Master harshly, his patience wearing thin. "And then- as fate would have it- I died _again_. Saving you as a matter of fact."

The Doctor looked in the Master's eyes, searching for any evidence that he could be lying. He found nothing.

"Saving me from what?"

The Master lowered his voice to a beastly growl. "Rassilon."

The Doctor looked sceptical, and his mind and words were lost. "That's impossible. If he were back, then... The time lock...I don't remember..."

"It happened. I was there. So were you. But you can't remember because time is being _rewritten_. In a bad way. _Cannibalising _itself. Time in itself is now broken and splintered at this point. The _heart of coincidence_," explained the Master. "And if we don't fix this now, Rassilon's gonna be the least of your worries. Besides, Temptation leans on the doorbell, but opportunity knocks only once."

"Oh, now, don't you start about the knocking."

"There's a faceless Empire that's taken over, marching towards a war of the multiverse," implored the Master. "And only we can stop it. You have to trust me."

"I can't," hissed the Doctor hotly.

"I already showed you the Guardian's Time Ring," barked the Master. "Why can't you just believe me?"

"Because you're always _you_ -every time," said the Doctor through gritted teeth. "The Master of lies and deception."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"But what you're saying doesn't make sense," replied the Doctor. "On all our travels, I haven't seen this _Empire_. Not heard from it, not even seen any damage it's done. Everything's just...normal!"

"Doesn't that frighten you?" he asked. "They've blinded you and taken everything they can. Trust me. They're unlike anything you've ever faced. They've already swept through the Uncharted Regions in just a day and soon, you'll be able to see them quite clearly, because they'll be _looking_ for you. _War is coming_."

"Why me? What do they want with me?"

"Shapes of things once lost are moving through the veil. The darkness heralds only the end, and the Doctor must face his past, to save our future," mumbled the Master, looking visibly unnerved. "That's what she told me."

"But how?"

The Master opened his mouth to speak but something distracted him. His eyes narrowed and concern spread across his face as he craned his head to one side, and stared fixatedly at the water droplets on the window pane of the shop. Suddenly, he took two deep lungfuls of air in, sniffing and breathing in the atmosphere. Then he immediately ran to it and licked the water droplets off.

"Does the rain smell _different_ to you?" asked the Master bluntly, urgency ringing in his words, as he turned to the others as well. The argument he had with the Doctor suddenly seemed immediately less dire.

Ivy stared blankly at the puddles, clueless. It seemed harmless enough to her. Clear and shimmering in the light.

"Why are you so obsessed with the _weather_?" asked the Doctor annoyed, lifting his right foot and looked down into the tiny, unassuming, puddle of water he was standing in. The Doctor stared and sniffed it, somehow analyzing it. His face screwed up in concentration for a long while, but nothing came to his terrific mind. Instead he squat down closer to the puddle pulled out his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and began prodding it in the pool of water.

Ivy shifted uncomfortably as several passersby stared at them. It must have been a strange sight to see two grown men enthusiastically licking and prodding harmless rainwater.

Then, something flashed in the water. A clear light was in the water and the bodies of water began to vibrate, ever so gently. Ivy took a step back in amazement and narrowly avoided stepping into another pool of water. She stared down at it closely, mouth wide open at what began to occur. Slowly it shivered and began to creep up every surface it touched, like liquid snails, glancing rainbows off it, and when it could no longer travel up the surfaces, the water droplets began to float in the air like clear liquid bubbles.

"I've seen this before," muttered the Doctor. "Judoon H20 scoop. But he said they were all gone…lost track of the ships…Oh no. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Uhm, dad," whispered Jenny, who was staring up into the sky, eyes widened with fear. "I think he's right."

"Look at the rain," said Matt loudly, as he tugged Ivy by the arm and pointing into the sky. "The sky is torn."

And then, every head on the Earth below, turned to face the darkening heavens above, as the sky began to tear and burn. A cacophony of fire and rain, bright flaming shafts of light from behind clouds of black smoke and shadows burst and pierced the darkness unto the ground.

Chaos brewed and reigned in the sky that was ripped. Every inch of the sky now turned to flame and smoke.

Now, the Empire was at hand, and all others need endure the end of all things...

* * *

**Author's Note**

A very big and complex chapter. Took forever. Many changes to things had to happen for the sake of the overall storyline. But I do think it's for the better. Hope you all enjoy. Can't promise when the next chapter will be out, but it will be quite brilliant. Promise.

-Rif


	6. Chapter Four : Cataclysm

**Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child**

**Chapter Four : Cataclysm**

_The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it's a world, or a relationship... Everything has its time. And everything ends. – Sarah Jane Smith  
_

In Memory of  
Elisabeth Sladen  
1948-2011

**A Growing Darkness**

"You play a dangerous game," said the Black Guardian. His face ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the terrible memory of many haunting things his dark eyes have seen, set like coals that could leap suddenly into a raging fire. His robes and hair was as dark as the shadows of the darkest night, such blackness in living thing, man has never seen before nor imagined in mind.

"The games are immaterial," snapped the White Guardian calmly, the light of stars in her bright eyes, grey as a clear and cloudless night, thought and knowledge in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years may bring. 'What matters are the stakes."

"You take such high risks however," taunted the Black Guardian sinisterly, his voice turning high and cold. "Has it become far too personal for you that it clouds your wisdom and judgement?"

"Your tongue runs on when speaking of my decisions," answered the White Guardian, her expression unchanged. "Surely you ought to concentrate on your own?"

The Black Guardian stared quietly for a moment, arched an eyebrow, picked up a dark piece and made his move upon the board.

"Far too simple," hissed the Black Guardian imperturbably. "The time of my thought is mine to spend, but I fear for your champions. They may have the Champion of Time on their side, but time is soon to _run out_..."

Then there was silence, for the shadows grew and drew nearer.

* * *

**World Invasion : London**

The skies of London blazed with terror. The city's shroud was sliced by intersecting flames of laser cannons and punctuated by explosions; contrails of debris raining from the skyscrapers became tangled ribbons of dark cloud till they hit the ground crashing craters in a heap of bricks, stone and dead men.

Hundreds upon hundreds of alien ships, of differing sizes and shapes, poured endlessly from the terrible wound in the sky above, like a gaping hole into an eternal abyss, firing bolts of light and thunder onto the unsuspecting city, vaporizing the streets and buildings with rending booms.

Stunned beings watched in horror from below, as they ran and screamed, losing all rationale and certainty as the city around them fell into flames. The Palace of Westminster now barely recognizable as the missiles fell and flattened it into rubble and fire. Big Ben's Tower crashing down upon the poor souls beneath it.

It's a nightmare, and no one can wake up. Humanity quailed at the darkness that enveloped them.

The battle up above, from the inside is a storm of confusion and panic, of particle beams flashing past your ship so close that your cockpit rings like a broken alarm, of the boot-sole shock of concussion missiles that blast into your cruiser, killing people you've trained with and eaten with and played and laughed and bickered with. From the inside, the battle is desperation and crying terror and the stomach-churning certainty that the whole galaxy is trying to kill you.

Inside, in the eye of the storm, arrived Delta Force, in a prototype heli-gunship, out manoeuvring cannon blasts and ion lasers as it progressed forth to their objective. Several squadrons of UNIT London HQ's modified F-16 jet fighters streaked and flanked them immediately as they came into sight, providing support and security cover in the mad chaos in the sky.

The battle began. The aliens came and UNIT responded.

Wade watched on as the heli-gunship weaved about in the madness, finding itself right underneath the bright crack in the sky, though a far enough distance to think it safe to stick his head outside, just staring as the unending slew of enemy ships broke into their world with no resistance and simply turning London into ash and smoke.

"Uh-oh," he said, a tone of wary in his husky voice.

"Uh-oh," echoed the other voices in his head.

"Wade's done a wee-wee," he squeaked as he returned to his seat in the passenger bay and watched the fog of war stir in the cockpit with a queer desire.

"Dammit!," screamed the pilot as he twisted his ship around another explosion that could have peeled its armour and shield like an overripe banana. His cockpit rang a hundred warnings he could barely decipher. Even louder than the clatter of lethal shrapnel and the snarl of his engines. It hummed and rang with near hits from the laser fire of the enemy ships crowding space around him. "It's getting awfully crowded in my sky!"

"Malcolm Reynolds called," bellowed Jorge from the bay as he clutched his weapon tightly, as the crew were tossed and turned about violently in their seats. "He wants his lines back."

Seth muttered indecipherable prayers whilst Sgt Buck remained a stern aged expression, staring intently upon the proceedings in the cockpit though he felt no urge to intervene. Only Lady Christina seemed the axiom of calm, as she sat crossed legged and arms unconcernedly. It was as though this was something she had experienced so many times, the thrill has simply gone out of it for her.

"Bank left!" screamed John Hart exasperated from the co-pilot's seat, as his fingers danced madly across the controls. The heli-gunship jinked left in response, narrowly missing several ion beams.

They could barely see where they were going in the chaos and rush of dust and debris storm kicking about them. All they could use to guide themselves was the trust in the on board computer. If they were above the Thames River, Wade could barely even make it out from up here.

"Like a leaf on the wind!" encouraged Wade enthusiastically, smiling though the swarms of shrapnel and sizzling nets of particle beams danced near the bay doors, and a gushing blossom of flame from an explosion on their right, lashed close enough to touch.

"What does that even mean?" growled the pilot angrily, tightening his grip on the control yoke, as they surged past enemy fighters, fully aware of their presence.

But UNIT's F-16s came looping past, harrying away the aliens as best they could, firing their newly mounted turbo-lasers courtesy of Professor Edwin Bracewell.

The new weapons proved quite effective.

"Higher dammit!" barked John as a Sontaran fighter exploded into superheated gas, minutes where they had been, and the shock wave of debris and expanding gas rocked the heli-gunship; John fought the control yoke, barely keeping the aircraft out of a tumble that would have smeared them across an enemy cruiser's hull.

"You want to fly this ship?"

"Yes!"

"Well -you can't!" stammered the pilot, his eyes flashing towards John.

A mistake. In that moment of anger and frustration, that one second he had taken his eyes off his direction, it was time enough for a _fatal _mistake.

The on board threat display chimed a late warning: two missiles had remote sensor locks on them. Unavoidable cannon fire stitched the space ahead of them, till they met their target upon the hull of the gunship and the missiles streaked head on to them. With impossibly fast reflexes, the pilot jinked the control yoke hard right, and the entirety of the gunship rolled into an evasive spiral but it was still too late.

Explosions rocked them starboard and bow, one after the other, as they spiralled uncontrolled through a storm of scarlet fire and broken glass. A gust of stinging smoke filled the cockpit as John abandoned his grip on the controls in resignation and turned to the pilot.

"I take it back! I take it back! You fly!" cried John desperately.

The charred remains of the corpse's hands on the controls, replied in silence. His body had gone missing along with half the cockpit that used to be there.

"Ah crap," muttered John annoyed at the inconvenience of the pilot's death, grabbing hard onto the controls once more.

"What the hell was that?" barked Sgt Buck into the cockpit.

"We've been hit... a bit," answered John sarcastically as the gunship continued to make a fast uncontrolled descent. "Pilot's gone. Well except for his arms. They're still here. Not much use though. Controls are pretty much dead too."

"Can you get this thing on the ground?" shouted Buck.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," laughed John nervously, all his blood draining from his already pale sunken face. "We're landing alright but this landing's gonna get... _pretty interesting_."

"Define _interesting_."

He paused and thought about it for a while.

"Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die?"

The vast battle that had ripped and battered London's sky began to flicker away from them as they fell under and began to descend out of its reach. Now a broken, fragment heli-gunship screamed through the air, coming in too fast, too steep, pieces breaking off to spread apart and stream their own contrails of superheated vapour and smoking flames from the missile strike. The rear half tumbled, explod ing in sections as it got..._pretty interesting_.

And in that moment, as the ship fell faster and faster, falling into London like a rock, though he grimaced at the scraps of burning hull flashing past them, Wade laughed and conjured a word fit for the time.

"**GERONIMO**!"

* * *

**Descent**

The dark is generous.

Its first gift to the Universe is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others.

The dark protects us from what we dare not know.

Its second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comforts is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is day that is temporary.

Day is the illusion.

Its third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark embraces the light, and brings it forth from the centre of its own self.

With each victory of the light, it is the dark that wins.

The dark is patient. The dark is silent. And when the silence has fallen, the dark _always _wins.

* * *

**The Wrath of Rassilon**

Rassilon stood tall - a dark colossus bestriding the galaxy - upon the edge of the dark crack in the sky, in his mighty flagship.

The sole being on the bridge who was not strapped into a chair stalked from one side to the other, floor-length rich red robes draped over his angular shoulders. He ignored the jolts of impact and was unaffected by the swirl of unpredictable gravity as he paced the deck with heavy metal clanks; he walked with the Presidential staff grasped firmly in his ethereal metal gauntlet.

His expression could not be read—his face was a mask of mystery—but the pure venom in his voice made up for it.

"And what are men but chariots of wrath, by demons driven," he declared as he watched the destruction his forces had made. Laying waste to such a pitiful city of uncultured apes. "This- This is a fitting punishment."

His majestic gaze that flickered bright like lightning stared down upon it from the observation bridge. He could not comprehend the Doctor's love for such a world.

And then he looked above, into the far off distance no mere human eye could see. The clouds were torn and drifting, and the closest stars peeped out; glimmering yellow in the storm-wreck. What could the Doctor see in Earth that the Universe could not provide? What could the Earth give that the Universe did not already have? What did the Earth have that Mother Gallifrey did not?

He pondered in disquiet.

They said the inhabitants of Earth were fierce folk when roused. That they would not give way now for dusk nor dawn until all they have come for has been taken or they themselves are slain. That their fates were not written by Destiny's hands but their own.

Foolish tales.

The fate and end of humanity was written when they began trudging upright in their mud hole and soon they dared look upon the heavens and covet it with envious desires. Older, greater civilizations were the rulers, the guardians and the guards, and it is they who have deemed that the rising ape must fall back to the Earth like the fallen angel of myth.

They were the chaos and the darkness. They were the _Empire_.

Rassilon looked upon the battle, his Emperor's work, and deemed it good.

More than good. It was magnificent. Even the occasional tremor of the deck beneath his boots, as the entire ship shuddered under enemy cannon and missile blasts, felt to him like _applause_.

Rassilon turned to the cabal of warriors that had just entered the bridge. Leaders of the Empire's dark army, all stood in anticipation for orders to be given to them. To be loose upon the Earth for the true battle to begin. They needed to satisfy their blood lust soon...

"The Emperor has given me his instructions. Find the girl. That is our only objective," snarled Rassilon viciously. "He cares not how it is done. Go down to Earth with all your forces. Turn this planet into dust if need be. But find this child of prophecy!"

* * *

**London Falling**

"Okay, I'm going to go on record right now. I do _not_ like this," said Matt. "I'm not a fan of the sky lighting on fire and opening up and aliens from _hell_ dropping _out _of it."

The group stood together as they watched the sky seared of blinding strikes. Lasers and missiles smote down upon the city, from great spaceships and cruisers. Ever again their bright bolts of energy tore aside the darkness of the sky.

Whilst the aliens swooped down on them, mankind ran in full pelt, this way and that, turning from fear to fear. The terror that was upon them filled every man, woman and child with utter madness. They reeled and screamed and cast aside all their hopes, dreams and love they had. Forsaking one another, they reverted to animalistic instincts. To survive, they abandoned sense.

But not all men buckled under terror.

The theatre of war was full of the unexpected.

In the sky, Earth's fighter jets roared in. The Royal Air Force battled hard against technology superior than their own but UNIT's too weren't going to let the enemy rule the sky that easily. Not with the Valkyrie and Valiant reaching soon. On the ground, there was combined arms movement of tanks, men and artillery. The Royal Marine Commandos led the line with all hands on deck. From the Thames, a stream of the Navy's finest ships and frigates fired everything they had.

All of them, attempting to stem the enemy but hundreds and hundreds more were pouring in from the crack in the Universe and through the breach. The dark tide flowed out and spread across London and began to decimate the city.

"And I'm definitely _not _a fan of _both_ things happening at _once,"_shouted Matt. "I'm not a fan of any part of it."

Feared filled Ivy to the brim as the brazen roars and explosions shook her out of immobility. The destruction caused London to be turned into a cloud of dust, shrapnel and fire. The others still stared, beheld by the peril.

"Alright Time Lords and Lady... Let's have it. What have we got?"

The Master, the Doctor and Jenny looked struck. The Doctor especially did not seem at all himself. His ancient warm eyes looked vacant and cold.

Quickly however, snapping to as a laser bolt shattered a window pane of an old Land Rover, the Master took charge. His eyes in contrast were lit bright with tempered fury.

"This dimension is cracked and torn," said the Master calmly, though poisonous anger was bubbling in his voice. "It was weakened before, but _now it's torn_!"

"Where exactly did the crack come from?" asked Ivy, urging on movement and action. She didn't think it was a wise idea to simply be overawed in the middle of the street as the city collapsed around them. "And where is it cracked to?"

The others recognised her intention and no longer halted. Life sparked in all their mad eyes.

"Do you recognise those ships?" he asked the Doctor.

"Sontarans. Cybermen. Judoon. Autons. Krillitane. Zygons. Sycorax. Draconians. Terileptils..._The whole lot_," he said calmly.

"No Daleks," said the Master surprised.

That was not a question. Merely an observation.

"Can I go punch one before we start getting killed?" asked Jenny as the building closest to them was struck by wailing and screaming cannon fire. The Doctor immediately upon reflex and warfare's experience, rushed them safely and swiftly aside, heads down low to the ground, to the street corner, as chunks of roof, glass and wall rained down and trembled the earth beneath them.

"What do we do now?" coughed Ivy urgently, as she looked to the Doctor, the dust settling upon them.

"We've gotta _run_," growled the Master without any need for thought as more cannon fire whistled overhead and another building on the street crumbled and crashed in smoke and dust.

The Doctor kept his calm and looked at the ruin around him and nodded his agreement.

The others did not need to ask any further.

"Let's go!" he said, and they did. The Doctor took charge and they ran together behind him like fire, leaping over rubble and the bonnets of blazing cars; except for the Master who stood jumping and waving his arms about in disbelief.

"I meant _away!"_he cried incredulous, before a hail of bright laser bolts showered behind him and he ran screaming at the top of his lungs after them.

"Oh alright then!" he cried against his fate.

* * *

**Just Like Home**

He didn't want this. He didn't choose this. Not again. Never again.

But right now he doesn't have a choice: the world he runs to rescue is a home closer to his hearts than he had ever hoped to have. That's what puts the edge in his voice when he tries to make a joke; that's what flattens his mouth and tightens his lips.

Earth.

It felt like the home he wish still he had. Always welcoming, always caring, always there. She provided him with an unconditional acceptance he never got elsewhere.

As London falls all around him, the dread boils in his blood. The Doctor swore to himself, a promise he had to make. He will not let it turn to ash and cinders. Not like Gallifrey. Not like Skaro. Not again.

_Never_ again.

* * *

**Fall of Shadows**

Through the destruction they sped. On and on he led them, tireless and swift. Ivy and Matt trailed behind, their short legs trying their best to keep up while the Time Lords simply sprang and weaved with unerring ease between upturned blazing trucks and newly formed craters in the ground, though Ivy seemed not to know where they were running to. They definitely didn't seem to be running away.

"What's the plan?" cried Matt, echoing her thoughts. All eyes turned to the Doctor.

"Why's everyone looking at me?" he yelped his voice high and squeaking.

"You're usually the one with the plans!" shouted Ivy under the wail of jet engines. "_Sort of!_Tell me you have a plan..."

"No, I have a _thing_," muttered the Doctor unconvincingly. "It's like a plan, but with more …greatness."

"You don't have a clue what to do, do you?" asked Matt.

"Get to the TARDIS and don't get killed?"

"Doing good so far, what then?" urged Matt.

"Stop this whole thing," added the Doctor.

"How?" cried Matt, hands spread high and wide in the air.

"Oh it's all questions with you today isn't it?" exclaimed the Doctor. "Can't a Time Lord just run and make things up as he goes along?"

"Seriously though..." interjected Ivy, her gentle voice was sad and soft. The Doctor could barely bare it.

"We get to the TARDIS, fly up and stop this," repeated the Doctor, though now no hint of playfulness in his voice. He really didn't know what else to do.

"Fly up?" cried the Master. "Are you crazy? Those battle cruisers have probably scanned and found your TARDIS by now."

"Doubt it," said the Doctor. "It's so small. Well... on the outside."

Then, an almighty roar and boom filled the sky, louder than any other. Immediately Ivy's gaze lifted, though she wished soon that it didn't, and saw a sight that made her heart sink to its lowest pits. Even from afar she could still see - the Shadow Proclamation fell. Its large upright ships, like floating skyscrapers were devastated and set afire. Explosions thundered across their hulls.

She saw one that was split in two along its width and shadowy shapes falling from it. Aliens or human, she couldn't make them out. All falling and turning to ash as a hail of laser bolts rained on them. She could not stand it any longer and tore her gaze away when she thought she saw a familiar shape fall from the smoking chaos. A large winged creature, still set in its chains, falling...

* * *

**Victory by Foot**

"Wait," said Jenny as she slowed to a pause. She thought she had heard something, though it seemed strange to her that she should be able to do that when the entire world around her was full of shrieks and destruction. But she swore she heard something strange. Something new. Something perilous.

The company halted, breathless and alert. Backs turned to face the wall, the Doctor looked at her with curiosity and uneasiness as they huddled closer together.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Jenny didn't answer. Her keen eyes narrowed, staring just several metres ahead. Now she swore she was seeing shapes in the air. She felt a cold dread creeping over her hearts. There was something in the air. It was moving. She could feel it.

Then it happened.

The faint shapes ahead of them seemed to grow. Soon, there could be no doubt as the forms took shape and black edges of several figures were seen undoubtedly standing in the street. Ivy gasped. The others could see it too now.

"Teleports," hissed the Master and the shapes in the air immediately materialised and an army marched upon them. "I guess they're landing now."

The landing was _pretty interesting..._

The wreck of metal and broken stone was high and smoking. All about the area, the roads and buildings were cracked and splintered into countless jagged shards and heaps. The crash had torn Piccadilly Circus into a ruinous heap that still flamed. Nobody had tried to search the crash for survivors. There wasn't much point. Nobody human could have possibly survived.

But then...

A thundering noise came from beneath the pile of rubble. The flames quivered and the ground trembled. Louder and louder it grew until finally...

**BOOM!**

A gargantuan man burst from the wreckage, roaring and all, his arm that he had used to ram himself free with, was bruised and stained with some blood. Then Jorge, surprised to find himself finally out of the wreckage, tumbled slightly and fell awkwardly to his knees.

"Bah!" he coughed as he steadied himself again, rubbing his aching bald head. "Gravity is not our friend today."

"Gott im Himmel," cried a German voice thickly, as Seth loped with poise out of the wreckage. "We should do that less often, I think. That was a bad crash."

"Hey, any crash you walk away from is a good crash," snapped John's voice as slowly, one by one, Delta Force emerged from the rubble, slightly raw and bloodied. "_You_try landing half a ship."

"Cut the chat ladies," growled Buck as he cocked his weapon purposefully loudly, bringing them back to the situation at hand, "We've got a job to do remember?"

The others fell silent. Not even a whisper of a footstep could be heard, not even from Jorge as they took an all-round defence position around Buck, as he assessed the situation.

The commander looked around the empty street of destruction, but he did not let his guard down. After all the years, he still inspected every shadow that might hide an enemy. His fingers gripped tight on his rifle. The others called him a work-obsessed emotional shut-in but he was fine with that. It kept him fast, kept him alive for twenty-years in active combat.

He glanced momentarily at a reflection of himself on some broken glass that crunched underfoot. Age lines became more evident and his cropped brown hair was beginning to thin and grey at the sides. Stupid old man…

2nd Battalion 5th Marines. UNIT's Howling Commandos. Now, Delta Force. In his mind, Buck told himself he should have retired as a Marine while he was still as decorated as a Christmas tree. But then he just had to get himself involved in Area 51.

But his thoughts drifted too distant. He snapped back to the task at hand and plotted their location on the holo-map strapped to his wrist.

They crashed too far from where they were supposed to be inserted but it didn't make much difference. Their objective was simple. Get in deep into hostile territory and clear the way for the rest of the infantry to overrun the enemy.

Killing. Thinning out the herd. Simple.

"So where exactly are the baddies we're supposed to kill?" asked Wade as he swung his twin blades in eager anticipation and raw delight.

"Why don't we ask _her_?" asked Seth pointing a lazy finger as they witnessed a woman screaming and fleeing past them along the street. "Hey, where's the fight at?"

Just as those words came tumbling out his mouth, a roaring rush of enemies chasing the fleeing human flooded into view. A laser bolt screamed through the air and ripped directly through the woman from the back, eyes and mouth wide open and her lifeless body tumbled and rolled right in front of them.

"Oh."

Suddenly the battlefield came to life. More and more enemies teleported into view in bright flashes of blue and white light, firing ear-piercing wails of lasers in their direction. A rising chorus of whirring, buzzing and clicking that thickened came from the mechanical Cybermen who stomped down, weapons trained on them.

"You were saying?" roared Buck as his elite team of fighters scrambled safely behind cover and began firing back. "Take them down!"

"Why can't we ever go anywhere _nice_?" said John sarcastically as he pulled out his revolvers and made swift deaths for his targets. The Judoons he killed fell with great thuds, all bleeding from between their tiny eyes.

"I hear Hawaii nice this time of month."

Responding tactically, their enemies opened up space between each other, dual cannons erupting gouts of galvened particle beams that blew craters where they landed. Buck signalled the others into better cover and positions as several Cybermen hosed them down with heavy fire.

Then at the precise moment when an opportunity presented itself, on instinct, Delta Force rushed forwards on his command.

Jorge gave immense cover fire as they moved. Buck's penetrating intellect of battle meant he made the shots of the most dangerous enemies. He downed four Cybermen in one swift leaping movement, and with their heavy firepower down, it afforded the others to get up close and pushed back the advancing hostiles.

But the enemies came down on them like a downpour. Not just Cybermen and Judoon. Buck could see a platoon of Sontarans quickly advancing, attempting a flanking movement and now Autons endlessly marching forth, particle pistols in their hands firing straight whilst their plastic bodies were simply taking in the damage.

But Buck grinned mildly and in the shadow that cloaked his face, there were bright twin gleams of his eyes. Here, in the battlefield was where he really came alive. The ease with which he had taken command of the situation was frightening.

He wondered why he even considered retiring. Forty wasn't that old and right now he felt young again.

"Christina, Seth, Wade you take the five hundred on the right."

"There are _only_three hundred and forty nine on the right," replied Seth as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Riiiight," responded Jorge.

"The rest of you, on the left with me," ordered Buck as he rushed forwards into the firestorm looking for death.

* * *

**Author's Note** :

I do apologise for the great delay. I had to go to Taiwan for a month, without internet access which greatly hampered my progress and also because of simply how complex and important some of the events in this chapter are for the future of my story.

This was a very very very big chapter for me to write. In fact, this chapter would have been 15,000 words had it been in its original form. Thus I have had to split it into two - this chapter and the next one so you could have it and not die at the length of it all (that's what she said) -and cut a lot of things in between. (Or at least move that to a later chapter altogether)

Second reason for the difficulty I found in writing these two chapters was because of the new season of Doctor Who that dangerously gravitated towards my own plots and me trying to keep these two things apart.

Contrary to popular belief, fan fiction's greatest asset is the opportunity to be entirely different to the original story in relation to plots and it'd be very lame if I ended up publishing a story that sort of ran the same route as it were.

Last reason, was due to the passing of Elisabeth Sladen.

I'll tell you more in the next chapter's author's notes.

_**ALSO, WARNING. NEXT CHAPTER IS QUITE LONG. TAKE A BREAK FIRST.**_


	7. Chapter Five : War of the Worlds

**Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child**

**Chapter Five : War of the Worlds**

_"A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life, there's..."-The Third Doctor_

In Memory of  
Elisabeth Sladen  
1948-2011

**UNIT Base 13  
Lima, Peru**

Cameras flashed incessantly, blinding him as he tried to calmly read out the words printed on the paper. His wrinkled old hand was shaking slightly. General Lethbridge Stewart blinked hard with his heart stuck pulsing in his throat. But he could not show weakness here. He straightened himself up, gently stroking his white beard astutely.

Not right now. Right now, he needed the strength to strengthen others.

Billions of people around the world were now watching him, at the edge of their seats transfixed. He took a deep breath, stared out into the sea of journalists and their video cameras and spoke calmly words he never wanted to utter.

"At 1446, Greenwich Mean Time, London, England was breached by what appears to be a fully coordinated attack by an _unknown_ enemy."

An audible collective gasp filled the room, followed instantaneously by frantic clicks, bright flashes and hard scribbling of pen to paper. Questions were filling the air but he somehow cut through them with a low and soft polite cough into the microphone that then left the silence ringing.

He continued further, eyes scanning intently on the paper before him.

"The breach was entirely from the atmosphere in what is clearly a campaign of rapid dominance," he continued further, feeling the sweat roll down his brows and cheek. "This is a textbook _military assault_ and _invasion_. Defensive lines are being drawn 20 miles outside the combat zone and all civilians are being evacuated as we attempt to figure out _where_ the enemy has come from, and _what_ their intentions are… But as of now, only one thing is clear: **The world is at war**..."

* * *

As he drove without paying much attention to the darkening road, he switched from channel to channel frustrated as newsreader after newsreader intently read out the news through his stereo's crackling noise.

"_The Prime Minister has issued for a DEFCON 1, the maximum Defence Condition-"_

Click.

"_-we're now getting confirmed reports of spaceships. The Pentagon has issued an emergency report-"_

Click.

"_The public has been advised to stay indoors…"_

Click.

"You know, if you wanted music you should have brought your iPod," interrupted Martha Jones annoyed, looking at her husband's futile attempts to get music on the radio while she sat patiently, waiting on the phone.

The world had gone to hell and there weren't a lot of radio stations on left to choose from. Except for the _Archers_, obviously. Figures that would still be playing despite all of London turning to ash.

"I wanted to, but _somebody_ had to touch my desk!"

"I was _trying_ to clean it up."

"It _was_ organized!"

"It was a _mess_!"

"It was an _organized mess_!"

The two fell into an angry silence as Mickey gave up and switched off the radio entirely.

"Is the Doctor picking up?" asked Mickey, who had asked this question twice before but said it again simply to break the nasty silence. He disliked the quiet.

"No," whispered Martha worriedly as she admitted defeat and neatly pocketed her phone into her jacket. Her eyes looked far into the distance where the dark smoke-filled sky lit up for a second, in a flash of lightning, and she prayed quietly for her Doctor's safety.

Mickey recognized the look on her face. He had seen in many times before. Rose wore it often when he was still in Pete's World.

"It's going to be ok," he comforted her, stretching out his hand to hold hers and squeezing it gently.

"Speed up," urged Martha. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Mickey obliged, putting his foot flat on the pedal, speeding towards the ruins of London.

* * *

Seth knelt down and uttered his prayers even as his cover, a great chunk of the ship that flew them began disintegrating from the laser bolts that tore straight through the durasteel.

"Maker, show them what you know of death, and guide my hand at this hour of need," he prayed quietly. But a different altogether indifferent voice answered him.

"Is this _really_ the time?" asked Lady Christina as she ducked down for safety, though her long hair was singed by a laser bolt that narrowly missed her head. Though at her furious scream, Seth wondered if she preferred if it had met the target instead.

"Do_ you_ pray Lady Christina?" he asked.

She stared at him with some contempt.

"Dear, these are two hundred dollar Italian cashmere _Kiki de Montparnasse_stockings. I'll only kneel in them if absolutely necessary," she replied dryly. "Also, kill the Judoon on the left. I just got my hair done last night."

Seth nodded, and his cybernetic eyes glowed a lethal red. He pulled out his sniper rifle, steadied the muzzle out into a small gap in the debris, took less than a second to aim and squeezed the trigger.

The Judoon fell like a ton of bricks.

"Thank you darling," said Christina, smiling appreciatively. "Just a few hundred more still to go."

* * *

The aliens, clad entirely in purple armour were stout and many. Without pause or hesitation, they formed precise formations and marched forwards, bombarding them with a shower of laser fire, though they were somehow, miraculously, quicker to react.

They ducked and quickly, the Doctor and the Master marshalled everyone aside into the corner of the street, where the laser bolts drilled harmless holes into the wall.

Ivy looked around at her friends. They looked worse for wear. Their clothes now slightly scorched and tattered around the edges from the near-misses and they were mostly caked with dust. The Master was leaking a trickle of blood from a wound near his temple from trying to save Matt, the slowest of the group. But by far, still the luckiest.

"HEY! Watch where you're shooting that thing," cried Matt. Several more laser bolts whistled past his ear as he rushed behind the others. "Oh, I guess they are."

"What the heck are those?" cried Ivy, flinging her back against the wall.

"Sontarans," growled the Master, as he bent and edged low to pick up a steel rod. "Bravest soldiers in the universe."

"I have Mister Potato Heads that look like them," added Matt as he peered around the building.

"You _still _play with those?" joked Ivy.

"Not...really," replied Matt, reddening alarmingly as he turned back. "I mean...I take them out once...in a while. For _sentimental reasons_.."

The rain of laser bolts grew heavier the longer they remained unmoving. Scorching hot holes in the ground burned the soles of their shoes, melting away some rubber.

"So what do you want to do now?" asked the Master as he swung about his metal staff eagerly. There was a hint of bloodlust in his eyes and words. He was licking his lips in the most disturbing manner. Ivy thought the grazing shot to his temple and the smell of his own blood must have awakened some sort of vicious beast inside him.

"Something _stupid_," replied the Doctor as he eyed the numbers ahead of them, his eyes squinting in the dust and wind. He gathers perception, and luck, and sucks into himself the instinctive, pre-conscious what-will-happen-in-the-next-ten-seconds intuition that has always been the core of his talent. And then he begins formulating a plan.

"Ah, the _usual_ then," grinned the Master.

"Ok," interrupted Matt. "Maybe we should open a dialogue with these guys and see if we can't come to some sort of peaceful accord."

"_Meh_," answered Jenny dismissively, her over-eagerness brimming. She wanted a fight and this was more than she could have dreamed of. Every alien of every kind was out there, ready for combat. She didn't want to pass up such a glorious opportunity. "Not my style."

"Don't say _meh_," chastised the Doctor disapprovingly.

"You think it'll _work_?" asked Matt surprised at the usual lack of ridicule to his suggestions.

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer but a laser blast destroys a chunk of the wall, inches away from the tip of his nose. He stared whilst making a face at the smouldering debris, which could have almost been his nose, and probably face, and fell silent for a while.

"Well..._meh_," retracted the Doctor.

"So, what's this stupid plan of yours involve?" asked Ivy hurriedly.

"Running faster."

"That's _it?"_

"Oh, and you know the thing about _teleportation…_ is that it usually works _both ways_."

The Doctor smiled a playful smile and whipped out his sonic screwdriver. There was a streak of blue light as he waved and aimed it carefully to the other side of the street. The others looked curiously to what he was pointing at.

An unassuming fire hydrant, in the middle of the street, _trembled_ and _shook_. Then it became still. And then it shook again slightly. It looked to Ivy as though it was almost shrugging aside the Doctor's attempts at sonicking it, when steadily, the trembling became more and more severe until it almost shook itself out of the ground. Then suddenly…

**BOOM!**

Pressurized water exploded and burst in harsh torrents in every direction.

Water rained and soaked the street where the Sontarans stood, those without luck being hit by the strong jets, knocking them over and under, the others staring into the sky like fascinated children at the gush of water pouring down onto them. They looked on distractedly.

The Doctor took that tiniest of openings.

Boldly he strode out of his hiding, right arm outstretched and flicked his sonic screwdriver towards them, changing some settings and pressing some buttons on the screwdriver Ivy never understood. For a while, nothing happened but the Doctor persisted and advanced upon the Sontarans with a brave front. His screwdriver whined determinedly.

The Sontarans, with their target in sight, snapped to. They ceased all thoughts about the water raining down on them and raised their weapons to shoot, before something odd happened.

There was a glow and a shimmer, and all the water in the area either froze in midair or began to float up from the ground like they did before. Clear, shining and weightless, like strange liquid bubbles. And with another brilliant iridescent glow in the air, one by one, directed by the Doctor's sonic, the Sontarans began to vanish from view.

"Okay, that was _pretty_good," enthused Matt, laughing and clapping his hands happily as they joined the Doctor into the street.

"_Oh yes, _I'm _very_ good_._," grinned the Doctor smugly, spreading his hands in the air exultantly.

"Alright, don't get too proud," hurried Ivy bossily. "We still haven't gotten out of this mess."

"You're right," admitted the Doctor, smugness gone and now his frown deepening. "Reversing the polarity of the teleports won't hold them for long and there's still a lot more of them around."

"We need to get to the TARDIS pronto," said the Master. "_Blah_, did I just use the word _pronto_?"

"It _is _a weird word that," agreed the Doctor, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes earnestly. "Like _correctomundo_. What's with all the _O_s?"

"Will you two please stop it," snapped Ivy. "London! Burning. Alien invasion. Hullo?"

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

"To the TARDIS then," murmured the Doctor. "Allons-y!"

* * *

"Sontarans," growled Wade. "Why did it have to be Sontarans?"

He'd been watching too many Indiana Jones movies. The quotes, the fedora and the constant humming of the theme tune as he massacred his enemies. The signs were all there. Jorge really wished he understood Wade more. He seemed fun. In a psychotic and possibly-going-to-stab-you-in-your-sleep sort of way.

But watching him kill up close made Jorge slightly hesitant. Maybe even fearful. Wade was a flurry of blades and blood and regenerating energy as he tore through the Sontaran formation, blade meeting flesh, blood and bone with unerring ease. An unstoppable killing machine they called him.

Jorge didn't even know why he was covering fire for Wade as Jorge barged his way past the fallen enemies. Wade never died. Wade was…_immortal._

Thanks to General Adama's Project Lazarus, Jorge grew into a mountain of a man with strength to go toe to toe with a Judoon. But as for Wade, Project Lazarus gave him the curse of healing.

With every injury he got, he simply healed in a glow of regenerative energy that poured out from the wound. Not that much could get a chance to injure him from up close.

Wade had put down killing others down to an art form. He knew where to strike, hit, cut and deliver the final blow. All his moves were cold and calculated but made in instant reflex. However, this had nothing to do with Project Lazarus. Wade was a killer long before that. Long before his time in Japan. Long before he was in the Special Forces. Long before Adama ever laid eyes on him.

Then again, once in a while, Jorge simply thinks Wade is just a little bit...crazy.

"To me, my healing factor!" cried Wade as a Judoon ran straight through him, sending him flying and flailing through a brick wall.

"Ok, _ow_. Like ow _a lot_."

* * *

**The Last Stand of Bannerman Road**

Quickly the company gathered together, confusion and fear still in the eyes of Suresh and Gita Chandra, though they cooperated silently. Their whispered and mumbled questions escaped from their lips and drowned in the screeching war above them. Trailing missiles and the spray of frequent shrapnel blasting into the town around them.

"Mistress! Danger, mistress!" cried K9, his flashing eyes glowing a dangerous red and his rotating ear probes whizzing as the Chandras made their way safely into her house. "We are in great danger! Fatalities imminent!"

"What is it K9?" asked Sarah Jane as she turned to him. But she had no need to. Lifting her eyes into the sky, where the whining roar of thruster engines became greater and greater, she saw a broken battle cruiser - power failing, hull torn to shreds and escape pods fleeing.

It was falling.

Falling through the parting smoke and clouds so that it eclipsed the entire town in its great shadow.

Where could they run to now? It would fall on them all…

"Oh my god..."

The hull plates that burnt and peeled off the cruiser came crashing into houses around her like meteors.

Had she evacuated them all? Only the Chandra household and her own were left...

Too old. Too stupid. She was too slow. Maybe if she hadn't been, she could have gathered them all safely to her old friend, the Brigadier. If only she had been one step ahead of her own self like the Doctor had always been, she could have all those families safely together...

Clyde...That stupid boy. So stubborn to not have joined his mother in the evacuation. Now he might not see her again. She should never have let him come...Sarah Jane's tears began to flow as she remembered how she promised her she'd take care of him and now...she would lose a son because of her. How could she have been so _stupid_?

Too old. She'd grown far too old.

And her own son Luke...She had hoped and dreamt of so much for them together. All robbed from her now as the cruiser dived nose first, smoke and fire trailing from it.

Thundering shock waves of the crashing and crushing debris reverberated through the Earth and her body felt every ounce of it and though fear filled her thoughts, a pressing question was on her mind...

Where was the Doctor?

"Mr Smith… I need you."

* * *

"A bit busy at the moment!" cried the Doctor to Jenny's plea for help as an Ogron gripped tightly around his neck, intent on crushing his windpipe as it pinned him against a lamp post.

"The Emperor requires you and your child," growled the Ogron menacingly, baring its yellowish misshapen teeth. "Consider yourself honoured!"

"You know, I really don't like the tone of your voice," gasped the Doctor as he wriggled in the massive grey hands of the Ogron, his hands pushing against its ugly face. "_Or_ the stench of your _breath_!"

Then with a huge clenched fist smashing to the Ogron's flat forehead, their primary weakness, the creature moaned and growled in violent pain and released the Doctor instantly.

The words rang in his ears and echoed darkly in his mind. The Doctor's hearts sank and the echoes sank with him. The blazing tarmac beneath his feet seemed to shift under him, and his head was starting to spin.

"_The Emperor requires you and your child."_

The intention was clear now. They came for him and Jenny.

* * *

Jenny spun with grace and lethal potency packed in her legs, as she swung and kicked off the arm of the cyborg, who stumbled back laughing. Its sinister laugh a convulsing mixture of machine and flesh.

"I applaud your courage little one!" droned the machine.

"Hard to applaud with one hand," retorted Jenny smugly. "Stop this-"

Jenny charged at speed, and leapt a great height before letting loose a side kick to the Cyborg's head, heel hitting the side of its steel cheek, which fell with a great clunk to the ground. With unerring skill and elegance, Jenny landed gently as the decapitated torso collapsed to the ground, sparking harmlessly from the hinge of the neck like a puppet with all its strings cut.

"-and get a head in life."

Jenny looked enquiring towards Ivy, who had been watching.

"I'd say that was cute," smirked Ivy to Jenny's delight. She squealed her joy quite loudly. "Very cute. But if you want one liners, you might want to watch him."

Ivy jerked her head towards the Master who was swinging the metal rod he picked up like a fighting staff.

"You must be crazy to resist the Empire!" gurgled a Zygon as it prepared to sting the Master with its poisoned barb. It raised its hands high in the air above its large cone-shaped head. The suckers that covered the entirety of the creature's flared and squelched angrily as it charged. "Die arrogant Time Lord!"

"Me? Crazy? _No_!" exclaimed the Master calmly in mock outrage. "I'm just a business owner who employs some very nice people. Meet my _staff_!"

Turning his metal staff in his hand, the Master swung it like an over sized baseball bat towards the Zygon. The creature, not expecting it, received the great blow to his chest where it stayed, with a momentary pause as though the pain had not fully registered.

Then, finally, the Zygon fell limp and staggered forwards slightly as it spit dark red blood all over the Master's face.

"Ah," said the Master annoyed, as the Zygon crouched over on the floor sputtering, gasping and filling its lugs with its own blood. Ultimately choking it died painfully as Ivy looked on horrified.

"This isn't' getting _any_better," interrupted Jenny as she regrouped with the others. "We can't go this way. There's too many of them."

"Change of plan?" asked the Master, his eyes boring slightly into the Doctor's.

"I agree with new guy," said Matt, who despite his steady words was trembling slightly. Ivy put an arm on his shoulder, squeezing it hard. She realized she too was trembling.

"Me too," agreed Ivy. "We need to haul ass before it gets handed to us."

"I prefer to say '_Tactical relocation_.'" said the Doctor.

"Let's tactically relocate quickly," urged Jenny as a hail of laser bolts flew in different directions above them.

"Less talk," griped the Master. "More tactically relocating."

* * *

**The Hub, Torchwood**

The world rattled and roared around her as Gwen struggled to keep herself balanced and to keep from collapsing like everything else. Everything was just chaos and noise but Gwen kept her cool, despite her phone going slightly wonky. She waited patiently for the other line to pick up...

And as it usually is with these kinds of things, the moment she had given up hope of an answer, the call went straight through.

"Erisa _****ing_Mugambo!" she screamed as a considerably large piece of the ceiling fell from above and destroyed what used to be the Weevil Containment facility.

"Gwen _****ing_Cooper," replied the Captain sardonically.

"I need an explanation," said Gwen as she kept an eye on the Hub's Rift Manipulator. "Explain why there's a fire fight happening in your backyard right now?"

"Bad things happen to good people?" shrugged the Captain.

"Captain, you're in charge of London, what the bloody hell is going on down there?"

"We don't know yet," answered Erisa honestly. Her voice losing the humour, sounded rough and strained. Gwen inferred her deep intakes of breaths meant she was fighting hard as they spoke. "Most of our satellites and communications are gone, even this line could go at any moment. The Doctor's down on the ground here, so it could be _anything_."

Gwen flinched at the sound of the Doctor's name. The Doctor was here? She felt like a foolish child to have not known how truly grave the situation was. She rushed to the nearby workstation and brought up the Rift Manipulator's readings.

"My data says it looks like an invasion force," said Gwen helpfully. "From all over the galaxy. You'll want to take a look at this. Sending it over before all your satellites go."

"You've got data?" asked Erisa sounding legitimately surprised, having had always boasted UNIT's superiority compared to Torchwood to Gwen at any given opportunity. "Impressive."

"You mispronounced '_Thank you_.'" replied Gwen. "Just helping as much as I can from here."

"Much appreciated. And Gwen," trailed Erisa's voice softly till it turned to a silent pause, "we think we've found your boy."

In the silence, Gwen's blood froze.

"You mean _Jack_?"

The sub-wave network died and her question was left unanswered.

* * *

"THERE THEY ARE! IT'S THE DOCTOR," shouted a Sontaran, whose armour was different from the others. There were many colours. Something in his mind wanted to tell him what that meant but, he had other important issues to consider.

"They're looking for _us_," repeated the Doctor, the words echoing in his mind ever since. But the blaring whine of panic and confusion inside his head was preventing him thinking properly as they continued running.

"Do not resist or you will be questioned, tortured and killed!"

"Well, I hope you get it in the right order," he shouted back at the Sontaran before he suddenly realised where he'd seen that different Sontaran armour before.

On Sontar. In the Coliseums. That was where he first saw such things. His hearts pumped cold poisonous dread throughout his body. He gritted his teeth in despair.

They were the Gladiators of Sontar. Mightiest of the mightiest. The Empire had gone so far as to release them from Stormcage...

_Who_ or _what _were they dealing with?

* * *

They reeked of madness, decay, of the desperate passing of all things. These Sontarans were not ordinary Sontarans. They were the Gladiators of Sontar. Mightiest of the Sontarans through constant combat and most importantly, _victory_, explained the Doctor. Three of whom were currently chasing the group.

"But they were imprisoned," added the Master. "For starting a war against their own world. They're quite dangerous as far as potato heads go, really."

Ivy could see why. They looked like the nightmares of monsters. Grizzled, scarred and bloodied. They wore no helmet except their amour which bore war paint and for some, the skulls of dead foes. Ivy dared to look back and count, though she gave up soon after. Simply put, there were _a lot_of skulls.

But they were almost there. The alley where the TARDIS rested, eagerly awaiting their return, was not that far away. If they could just get to it...

A rain of laser fire trailed the ground behind them. Ivy, instinctively grabbed a handful of Matt's shirt and dragged him forwards, holding one arm over her own head as shards of debris hit them hard. A Gladiator closest to them, lunged forwards through the cloud of dust and Jenny elbowed him hard in the face. But she fell backwards as well, the Gladiator managing to connect a kick to her abdomen.

They were all yelling now, there were cries of shock and pain as Jenny crumbled to the hard jagged ground. The Gladiator however simply sprang back to his feet instantly, and pulled out a blaster pistol and pointed it towards Jenny.

"That will cost you -"

Then something reckless occurred to Ivy, as she saw the blaster pistol charge and crackle with energy.

Immediately, Ivy launched herself across the ground, grabbing the Sontaran around the knees causing him to topple and his aim to go awry. She screamed as she tackled him, both in fear and surprise at her own outburst of courage. A jet of red laser fired high into the sky missing the target completely.

Then, in the commotion and panic, as the angry Sontaran turned and grabbed Ivy into a choke hold, Matt too launched himself on the Sontaran, his anxiety to help kicking away the blaster pistol and punching the Sontaran in the face.

Several times.

Quite a lot of several times. Several times too many even. It had actually begun to lose consciousness when it fell in the tackle and hit its probic vent on a shard of sharp debris.

"Let's go!" cried Jenny as she pulled them both away as the other two Gladiators surged towards them, roaring and spitting.

The adrenalin pumping and her heart racing Ivy alarmingly cried out, "I've seen tougher KEN dolls than you!"

There was an awkward silence of realisation then as they kept running where Ivy wondered where those words came from. She was wondering if she had passed out in the midst of battle and started dreaming instead.

"You still play with those?" joked Matt.

"No," replied Ivy grinning. "Sentimental purposes."

* * *

Too many of them. There were too little of them fighting against too many.

There seemed no end to the horror – it was like Hell, and there were devils around every corner.

The Sontarans led by the Gladiators knew where they were running to. They had set up the ambush and the Doctor stupidly fell for it, bringing the others along with them. He stood tall and spread his arms wide around the group protectively, backing them against the stone wall. They wouldn't shoot if they wanted him alive. Or that was the wager he had anyways.

But they shot two streams of silver light like arrows which missed but left craters in the wall behind them. A warning shot but nothing more. He won his wager – so far. They weren't daring to risk killing him. With that confirmed, the Doctor took a brave step forwards, those he still had his arms open wide like a shield to guard his companions.

The Master too took a step forwards, though his eyes were leering. It was as though he read his mind.

"Your race is run Time Lord," drawled a Gladiator, stepping forwards from the formation of Sontarans that had their sights all on them. "You and your daughter will come with us."

"Let the others go, and we'll come quietly," bargained the Doctor desperately.

A few of the Sontarans laughed.

"You are in no position to bargain Doctor," said the Gladiator, his terrible face flushed with pleasure. "We have an army. What have you got?"

There was a pause as the Doctor began to register a new development on the battlefield. He tried to keep a straight face but he was never good at poker. His grin turned to a smile as he saw a dark shape fly towards him.

"Oh you know..._a dragon_."

"What?"

"Look behind you."

* * *

There and then, high above them, a large great shape came into view blocking out the sky and covering the land beneath it in darkness and dust. The Sontarans turned to fire but before they could do so, a gush of flames set them alight.

"Get behind me!" roared Bob, as it reared, circled and lashed its great tail at the Sontarans.

Ivy did not wait to see the Sontarans flying through the air but dived to one side out of the way. The Sontarans were completely distracted by the appearance of the dragon that they had forgotten all about them, fleeing the area to take cover.

Some tried to fight back but were grossly overestimating their luck and ability. The shrieking Sontarans hurled returning fire that simply glanced off its flanks. Bob tore at them with his large claws and crushed them with a single strike of his forelimbs.

"Thank you," coughed Ivy in the whipping dust storm brought about by Bob as she was helped up by Jenny who had been laughing at the fleeing Sontarans on fire.

"You're welcome," growled the now blackened dragon which was covered in soot and ash. There were signs of wounds and burns on his scaly wings but it seemed not to bother him at all. "I said before that I would fight alongside _you_, didn't I?"

"Brilliant," said the Master in an awe-struck voice. He laughed, "A big bloody dragon… I want one now. Christmas, perhaps."

"But I'm afraid I must ask you to leave this battle to me," interrupted Bob slowly, turning his massive spiked head towards the Doctor.

"Why? We can fight!" disagreed Jenny vehemently.

"In that I do not disagree," said Bob flashing his razor sharp teeth in what Ivy assumed was a grin. "But there's not much time. Look at the sky. This weather is not of Earth... His armies have no love of the daylight, so He covers the face of the sun to ease their passage. As the sky gets darker, more will only come through."

"The teleport scoop," muttered the Doctor gravely, as he stared into the sky. The sky seemed to darken even further, as though the blackness of space wasn't dark enough.

"It's getting bigger," said the Doctor in surprise.

"Well, I guess this battle's lost," shrugged the Master unhelpfully, throwing his hands in the air. "We should run."

The Doctor remained silent.

"Heed his counsel and run, Doctor," explained Bob hurriedly. There were four cries behind them of enemies returning. "If you really care about this world, you'll go. They're only here for you. They will chase you, but I can slow them down - as best I can."

There was a long pause as the Doctor seemed to deliberate. Ivy's heart seemed to ache at every passing second as she looked around her and realised how many people had died. They were everywhere. Bodies littered the streets of London and the blood soaked on her hands wasn't even hers. She had whilst running, stumbled over a woman in her fifties, and her warm blood was now on Ivy. She didn't even look to see if she was really dead or what she had looked like. She could have been someone she knew and she didn't even care to look.

"I agree with the running away business," answered Matt his voice hollow and sorrowful.

"Me too," added Ivy quietly. She felt a twinge in her heart and a writhing fear inside her chest screamed to rupture open. "If they want us, they're going to have to chase us. And I bet it's very difficult to chase a TARDIS don't you think?"

The Doctor remained silent for a moment as he looked into Ivy's pleading eyes. It was as though he could see right through her. See through the anxiety and the sorrow going through her head and see the grotesque trepidation inside her.

"Alright," said the Doctor decidedly. "Let's go."

As the others nodded and prepared to run once more, only Ivy saw the Master flinch. His eyes flashed like a bright light on water as he watched the skies carefully. There was something there that had suddenly caught his attention…

"I'll stay with the dragon," said the Master suddenly turning to the others, "but I'll meet you as soon as I can."

"What?"

The change in the Doctor's voice was astounding.

And then, suddenly it became menacing, powerful, harsh as stone.

"_No_. Come with us," he said. There was an edge to the Doctor's voice. A strange desperation.

Hadn't it been the Master's idea to run right from the start?

Ivy looked on confused. The Master was looking straight at the Doctor, his drawling voice still in the air as though a hint of danger laced his words. Ivy was still not comfortable with his presence. There was something in the way he bared his smile, the echoing lingering way he laughed and the way he looked at you – more scrutinizing than anything else.

"Trust me," said the Master smiling his malevolent smile as innocently as he could. "Go. I've got a Time Ring remember? I'll find you."

But the Doctor seemed to know him well. There was bond between them Ivy could not explain. Of equal trust and mistrust. Like brothers who knew each other's darkest depths.

The Doctor and Master looked into each others eyes for what seemed an eternity, lost in one another's gaze. The Doctor's bright stare trying to pierce through the veil of shadows behind the Master's own edacious black eyes.

"Don't be late," muttered the Doctor finally.

"Oh, go already," the Master whispered rolling his eyes to avoid his gaze once more. "Run Doctor. Fast as you can."

* * *

They sped together, quickly running out of breath and ideas, they needed to get to the TARDIS.

"Very brave to stay and fight Time Lord," said Bob, rearing once more at the sight of the counter-attacking Sontarans.

"Don't be so stupid," the Master said dismissively as he watched the others run off into the distance. "This isn't about courage. This is about revenge."

"Revenge?"

His lips curled into a thin smile and his eyes darkened.

"I smell Rassilon in the ranks…"

"Very well, let us fight evil with evil," roared the dragon as he shot jets of ruinous fire across the battlefield before spreading his wings and rising up into the air.

* * *

**Millenium Bridge, London  
**

There were too many of them.

"That noise you hear, like bottles breaking- those would be your ribs!" snarled the Sontaran as it continued viciously to stomp down hard on Wade's spine with its great boot, laughing as it did.

"That cold metallic chrome you're feeling on your back," interrupted a voice that seemed to loom from behind," that would be the St Paul's Cathedral you're crashing into."

The Sontaran turned to face the voice but all it saw before it was sent soaring through the air like a vivid purple ragdoll was a giant fist flying towards its face. Jorge then laughed as he helped Wade up off the ground, simply picking him bodily up by the collar and putting back his dust-caked Fedora on his heavily bleeding head.

There was then a great crash when the Sontaran crashed into the Cathedral.

"Thanks big guy," coughed Wade, glowing orange regenerative energy flowing out of his every orifice again.

"Man, these guys don't quit!" cried John vaulting over large broken slabs of tarmac and stone as laser bolts ricocheted off them leaving scorch marks and green smoke on them. "I hope you alien scum bought return tickets, because otherwise you're goin' home in a cosmic ambulance!"

Buck and Seth threw themselves acrobatically over into the crater the squad had been taking cover behind, looking slightly bruised and beaten with Seth's green glowing eye flashing madly.

"They swarm like ants!" declared Lady Christina as the squad began regrouping.

"She's right," admitted Buck bitterly. "We're too out in the open. They 're coming at us from all sides. We'll funnel them through the bridge. FALL BACK!"

"And if that doesn't work?" asked Christina as they began retreating in systematic leaps and bounds.

"We could blow the bridge and drown the bastards," interjected Seth helpfully as he lobbed two grenades towards the enemies with a surprising amount of grace.

"And what would Jesus say about that?" asked John sarcastically.

"He'd suggest inflatable swimmies," Seth replied, grinning.

Then, suddenly as the fire fight seemed to reach its crescendo, with nothing to separate either side, a roar of command was issued out from beyond the bridge.

"HOLD!" bellowed a Sontaran Commander, standing boldly upright in no-man's land, right hand raised in the air with an open palm, signalling the others to halt.

Curious, Buck too issued out the command to cease fire.

"This is new," Lady Christina said with interest. "Why'd they stop?"

"Maybe they were intimidated by our slick fallback moves?" suggested Wade.

But then silence fell all around them.

"Guys, I don't think we're at the wisecrack part of the encounter yet," complained John annoyed. "Something's coming…"

In the instant he spoke those words, a bright light descended behind them. Buck swore under his breath as they turned to look high above them. There was a deafening roar from the mighty ship above as he gazed at the apparently empty light, yet feeling its menace. Buck clambered over a low crumbling wall, feeling himself slip backwards and feeling a flutter of fear pass through him.

And then he saw him. Rassilon was descending from the ship like smoke on the wind, without any visible means of support, his menacing eyes gleaming out of the blackness and his staff and metal gauntlet emitting a powerful glow of blue before-

**BANG!**

Buck opened fire first, immediately followed by the others. Lasers and bullets firing in a frenzied burst of fury but alas; all of them were deflected harmlessly, unable to penetrate some sort of great invisible barrier that shielded the Time Lord in a glowing orb.

Rassilon laughed a dark chuckle that chilled them to the very bones.

"You have prolonged this farce for long enough," screamed Rassilon suddenly, as he finally placed both feet on the ground, slamming the bottom of his staff angrily on the Earth. "I shall end it now."

Sparks flew from the tips as he slowly, lifted it skywards and the Lord Presidents staff began to shimmer and radiate energy and the light of a dying star.

Buck could barely see as he narrowed his eyes, staring into the brightness and was sure that it would be last thing he ever saw. It was over.

* * *

It was finally over. The door closed behind her, and instantly she felt safe once again.

The TARDIS. They had always been safe here. Ivy felt protected and safe within the infinite amount of walls of the TARDIS. She almost felt they were untouchable.

The TARDIS groaned and shook violently as the chaotic battle ensued.

Well, almost untouchable.

"I know, I know," replied the Doctor impatiently as he whipped out his glasses and began a manic control switching, flicking, pressing, punching and kicking on the core console. The bright glittering central column breathed slowly, rising and descending in soft and gentle mechanical breaths.

"So, what do we do now?" Jenny asked as she joined her father at the main console, helping him with the controls. Strangely, she seemed slightly calmer and more adept at it than her father.

"Well," dragged on the Doctor slightly as he thought, "first thing's first, I've got to know what's out there."

"But we've already seen what's out there," Matt said impatiently. "They tried to shoot us whilst we were seeing what was out there! It was _very_ distracting."

"We saw the _soldiers_, yes," answered the Doctor, "but I want to know who's really running this show."

"Scanned the fallback of the enemy signals," interrupted Jenny quickly, flicking several switches and pushing the monitor towards them. "Let's find out then."

A flickering buzz and hum came from the monitor as it flashed a series of alien ships, the kind unlike the TARDIS and more like those she had seen in movies. Large futuristic battle ships, all shapes and sizes. Names and numbers scrolled on the right side, confirming the scale of the assault. The terrible fear that gripped Ivy seemed to tighten.

"Oh—kay," mumbled the Doctor nervously, his voice lowering.

"What is it? What are we up against?"

"Well, basically, almost everyone and everything," said Jenny calmly, her keen eyes fixed upon the readings still flying past the monitor. "Plus the TARDIS can't pick up where they've all come from."

The Doctor seemed stunned and in awe, as he pocketed his glasses and looked away past the monitor, towards the door, as though mentally visualising the threat that lay beyond it.

"What _are_ you?" he asked aloud, gaping and looking worried. "_Who_ could possibly amass such an army…and what do you want with _us_?"

"What do we do?" asked Matt.

"Doctor, listen to me," pleaded Ivy urgently.

The Doctor turned back to face her, paying her attention though there was still a faraway glaze in his eyes as he smiled back.

"Always will," he said consoling her with a comforting grin.

"You can't win this, you can't even fight it," blurted Ivy instantly as though it had been on the tip of her tongue all this time. The alarm in her words rang plainly.

"But we can't just run!" cried Jenny, as the Doctor began to consider the point. "People are _dying_, we _have_to fight."

"No, I'm sorry Jenny," interrupted Ivy. "I know how you like to solve problems with your fists, but that isn't going to do anything. And you're right, people _are_ dying. That's why we _can't_ _fight_."

"It'll help the people who are _dying_!" said Jenny firmly.

"I'm sorry, I _know_," insisted Ivy desperately. "I get it. But whoever is behind this, at the _heart_ of it, that's who we should fight. This once, just this once Doctor, we have to run. _Please_."

"But everyone in the galaxy is going to be hunting us down," said Jenny.

"Universe is a big place to hide a small blue box," Matt said finally.

There was short pause as the Doctor, scratched his head irately, turning on the spot on his converse that groaned against metal floor. He seemed to be struggling against himself in his own thoughts before he subsided, folded his arms and stared quietly down into the TARDIS darkest depths.

"You're right," he said, staring into the darkness.

"Who is?" Ivy asked.

"_All_ of you," declared the Doctor as he regained his normal composure. "You're _all_ right."

"We are?"

"Yes," said the Doctor, returning to the main console and flicking several switches as he talked. "But there's more to this story than we've heard so far. And whoever these people are, they came for _us._.._specifically_ for us. _Chasing_ us."

His eyes lingered upon Jenny, who stared back blank and confused.

"What for though?" Matt asked curiously.

"I don't know," admitted the Doctor honestly, "but if we want to help Earth we should leave."

"But-"

"We have to trust our friends here can take care of themselves whilst we're gone."

"But the Master-"

"-can take care of himself. He's a survivor. Always have been, always will be."

"But-"

"I know how you feel Jenny," said the Doctor with a tone of finality. "But this…this _Empire_, whoever they are, whatever they are, only has one objective : _the two of us_."

Jenny looked as though she was about to argue her point further, but the Doctor pressed on persistently.

"They're not interested in who dies or doesn't. That makes them dangerous. Very dangerous. They're just killing and destroying London because we just happened to be here. It's _our _fault they're dying. The Empire has been chasing _us_."

Jenny looked at her father, eyes darting ashamed though now, finally accepting and understanding. Instantly, she began flicking and turning switches on the main console and the TARDIS engines began to wheeze and moan. The light from the central column burned brightly and with a crash of engines that quaked the room, the TARDIS began to levitate and soared through the sky.

"Thank you," Ivy told Jenny, who smiled politely in return.

The Doctor grinned to himself as he too returned his attention to the controls.

"And if it's a chase they're after...This TARDIS will give them a run for their money. "

Jenny grinned tensely, though a fleeting glance towards the monitor, which showed the scan of London smoking and blazing, betrayed her distress.

"Don't worry," whispered the Doctor. "You know, the thing about time travel is...it's never too late."

Then with a determined roar, the TARDIS shot through the darkness, whirling frantically through the battle zone, dodging and weaving its way past the lasers, explosions and the thousands of stars ships. Swiftly it rose higher and higher, until at last they made it into the calmer stillness of the solar system.

Then finally, the galaxy around them wheeled in a spray of hard, cold pinpricks through the veil of infinite night as the TARDIS dematerialised safely into the vortex.

* * *

Ivy's mind ached and throbbed sharply. Everything seemed fuzzy and slow. As the TARDIS began to dematerialise, Ivy felt sick and retreated to sink into one of the chairs in console room.

She buried her head in her hands, closing her eyes so that the glowing red of and eyelids grew dark and cool. Then as she did, a silence spread outwards from her like a ripple till she could not even hear her friends' voices or the low incessant groan of the engines…

Her mind was full of what she had just seen. All that destruction around her as London fell, triggered flashbacks of her childhood. A childhood she couldn't even remember. A childhood where she lost so much. A family and a home. Everything she had ever wanted.

Sometimes, they would come back to her in spells. Barely even memories. They were mere fragments of unclear memories that had haunted and riddled her for many years. But one thing which was clear, was they were not joyful memories…

The world around her was ablaze. A rushing noise filled Ivy's ears. There was screaming and crying as she lay helpless in her cot. Still just a baby, tears streaming down her cheeks, calling out for help.

Then the woman came for her. She took her and fled the burning house but to her horror, it was not just the house that was ablaze. The whole world was alight…the orange sky was burning and the heat scorched through her skin.

"_It's falling…it's finally falling."_

* * *

**Hyde Park, London**

"_Oi_!" cried Donna piercingly, so that all of them could hear her.

Every eye was fixed upon her as she strode out into the open field. Grass, rock, cinder and ash blew past her gently. Her red hair flowed in the storm like a blaze and her the depths of her dark eyes was full of rage. She looked as bold as brass with every step she took into the crowd of completely silent and watchful aliens.

Some stood and took aim, wary of anything this planet could bring whilst others simply stared curiously. Some faces like the Ogrons and Zygons were cruel, rough-hewn like rock, others Donna had never seen before were smooth and skulking; but all of their eyes were full of apprehension at the new sight that defied fear of them.

Nobody dared speak however. They seemed as scared as she was, whose heart was now throwing itself against her ribs as though determined to escape the body she was about to cast aside.

"I'm going to give you one chance - _just one_- to leave this planet alone."

A jeering and raucous laughter filled the air.

Her head began to heat and burn as her enemies slowly took small steps and advanced upon her tauntingly. The monsters were daring her but she did not flinch nor falter. They rose together with the cries, gasps and laughter rising with them as they did, but she held fast, unmoving and her body did not betray her.

"Filthy _human_," spat a Zygon venomously who stepped forwards as the leader of the cabal that were circling her, like wolves about to shred their unfortunate prey to pieces. "We will _rip_ and _tear_ this world apart like all the others."

"No second chances," muttered Donna dangerously.

"Will you die to protect this world?"

"You bet I will."

As she uttered her final word, they moved to strike.

Then it came.

Donna's body began to tingle and stir up her spine to the aching, pulsing base of her skull. The familiar rushing sensation flowed through her body and she felt it course through every vein and through into every fibre of her being. Her head began to boil once more.

She saw shock flit momentarily across the Zygon's face as a red and fiery glow burst suddenly across the dark sky above them and Donna's eyes shone gold.

More and more flashes of repressed memory ran through her mind, ever increasing in intensity. They flew madly past her eyes, crumbling, tearing and blazing like wildfire until the blaze of pain, was finally too much for her to bear…

And the space around her screamed and tore in a blinding rupture of white light.

The aliens looked on paralyzed as their gloating smiles froze, and their eyes seemed to bulge as they watched an explosive wave of energy discharge from Donna Noble with the force of a bomb, blasting every one of them backwards, flailing and writhing through the air…

* * *

The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins—but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars...

* * *

There was a flash of light in an alleyway. Two thuds could be heard, followed by a round of soft laughter as the two people arrived at their destination.

"I can't believe that worked. You did it. You brought us back," the blonde said, wiping the dust from her jacket. She turned to look at her companion. He straightened up and walked over to the girl. He was wearing a tight, all- blue suit, a shirt, and no tie. His converse squeaked on the debris.

"Yeah. Back," he said, his eyes smiling before his mouth did, curving up into a grin. She smiled back at him, reaching out her arms. They kissed smoothly and when they broke apart, she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He breathed in her scent. His Rose. Her Doctor.

"Let's go save the other you," Rose said, grabbing his hand.

"Oh yes. Just like old times!" he replied with a wink, and they ran.

* * *

**Author's Notes :**

Super long chapter. Think I was overcompensating trying to appease you, the readers for the lack of chapters being published the last month and things.

And I do sincerely apologise. I have never been this late before and I hope I won't be ever again. Then again, I've never been as busy as I had been the last few months. Now, it's getting a bit calmer where I work so, good news for us.

Some of these plot developments may seem self-indulgent, and they are. Well, not really. Well, slightly. Well, actually no. I never write anything that's self-indulgent that's not also vitally important - so I can get away with it. :D

Anyways, like I said, I found this part of the chapter really difficult to do. I had to get the plot points down as well as getting enough emotion out of the characters to still keep people invested in the people these things are happening to.

Another thing I'd like to point out was the Sarah Jane parts. I really felt torn about whether I wanted to keep her in the story after Elisabeth Sladen's passing so I had to deliberate for a long while what to do. It felt at the time disrespectful to have that character in there at the time.

There was a lot of editing and rethinking before I finally decided that I had to keep her in. I could have done without her, but I loved the character dearly that it would be disrespectful to edit her out entirely. I am comforted by my memories of the character and I hope they endure further through playing with her character.

Also, had to bring in the Brigadier, whose actor Nicholas Courtney also left us this February.


	8. Chapter Six : The Silent Devastation

**Chapter Six : The Silent Devastation**

"_This world is but a canvas to our imaginations" - Henry David Thoreau_

_Time Lords._

_What a bunch of emotional over the top wrecks_.

Rassilon's staff smote the bridge before him and a dazzling flare bloomed from its tip, blinding all those around him. The bridge trembled and moaned as if it were in pain. It sways and creaks but then for a while, a tense short while, it seems as though nothing had happened. It is still and it is quiet.

Wade looked around and drew a deep breath of relief.

"Phew!" he exclaimed.

Crack.

"_Oops," echoed all the voices in his head._

"_This is so embarrassing."_

Then, without warning, with a great rending boom, the steel bridge shattered like thin glass under their very feet. His ears drowned in a roar and a great confusion of noise. Sudden calm turned to chaotic tumult. He heard the gut churning snap of the suspension cables, the cracking of concrete and the moaning whimper of the bridge's supports and his fear rose like a vast black smoke to choke him.

Suddenly, as though commanded by Rassilon, whose strange gauntlet was shimmering, the water of the river leaped up, lashing and livid and consumed them as the bridge fell, slid, crumbling and crashing down into the gulf below.

The group toppled and fell backwards as the ground they stood on simply fell away from them.

Instinctively, as he fell, he quickly grabbed onto his swords and fedora. I mean, it's a fedora. He liked his fedora. Fedoras were cool. And his swords? They meant more to him than even his own life. Which was immortal, by the way, so he wasn't actually that scared to be brutally honest.

He didn't fear death. He only feared pain.

And he always felt the pain. Every single inch of flesh that cut him and every single shattered bone. The agonizing and mind searing pain. But then he heals and he lives. With all the pain. That was the price he paid to keep his life. An eternal life of eternal pain.

As he fell, he watched the others and wondered if they were going to live. He wondered how painful it would be for the others. Wade watched everything as if it were in slow motion.

Jorge tumbled backwards awkwardly like some clumsy giant upturned turtle, roaring and cursing as he scrambled to grab onto the broken wreckage, which broke into smaller pieces in his mighty grasp.

"_For want of a better word, that is going to be…ow."_

Seth on the other hand was surprisingly fast and poised, moving to jump as the bridge collapsed and was now diving rather than falling into the river.

"_Man, preacher boy is way too cool," mused a voice in his head._

"_Yeah, but he doesn't have a fedora," added another._

"_True that," agreed Wade._

Buck and John too were actually handling the falling thing pretty well. Both of them were smiling.

Death smiled upon Buck and he smiled back, welcomingly.

"_Okay, creepy smiling face."_

John was just smiling because he was suddenly teleporting in a great purple glow.

"_Wait what?"_

Wade blinked and in an instant John had simply disappeared from where he was -falling in mid-air. He looked around quickly. Someone else had disappeared too. Someone hot and yummy and _totally _sexy.

"_Wait, where'd Lady Christina -"_

Then in another bright flash, which Wade was getting bored of because there'd been a lot of those going around today, plus it wasn't very epileptic friendly, Lady Christina suddenly materialised above him. She floated above, hair dancing in the rush of wind and reached out for him.

"_I knew she couldn't resist us."_

"Hey, no copping a cheap feel there- oh, I'm sorry, that was me doing the copping... "

In another flash and the sound of a firm slap, they disappeared as the Millennium Bridge came crashing into the River Thames without Delta Force.

* * *

The day grew old and the ash-filled sky turned darker but the thundering explosions were not lost in the coming night. As the battle continued on Earth, high above the city a greater fury began to brew…

"Define …"_disappeared_"," hissed the Rani, her lethal gaze befalling the grim-faced Gallifreyan Chancellery guards.

"The T-TARDIS can…no longer be l-located milady and-"

In a flash, the Rani's sinewy scarred hand shot out from the depths of her robes, clutching a thin silver blade that cut well and through into the soldier's heart. Immediately, he sputtered blood on the cold metal floor and slumped onto it with eyes wide and blank.

"Congratulations on your new promotion _Commander_ Annos," drawled the Rani, wiping her blood soaked hand across his shirt as she took a step back and wrapped herself around the shadows like a blanket. "I hope that unlike your predecessor here, you will be more successful in your search?"

* * *

The men and monsters fell back before them, the giant wings of the dragon whipping a gale beneath as they rapidly descended to the Earth. The Master's eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize.

There he was. He recognised the stench that tainted the wind from a mile away.

The enemy did not run screaming nor did they rally into a war cry, though they gazed in wonder at the Time Lord that the dragon bore on its neck. Bob the dragon spat out a warning burst of flame in their direction yet they did not flinch. They simply let the flame lick the air.

This group of enemies did not know of fear. Not from anyone but their lord that stood tall and dark like a living monolith amongst them.

Rassilon smiled at the sight of his newest challengers come to die. His carven face with its proud bones and skin like ivory hardened and his ancient deep eyes lit up.

A beastly hunger had awoken.

* * *

The Doctor's hearts thumped once, painfully, against his ribs. He wasn't too late. Not this time.

The TARDIS shivered, her metal insides groaning as the Doctor pushed her through the tempest that was the Vortex. Friction turned the air to fire and the TARDIS raced through the swirling fields of time energy and the TARDIS shook and pitched wildly.

"Dad?" shrieked Jenny as she lost her ground and was sent flying across the console room, blonde hair whipping her features as she fell with a resounding clang on the hard and cold metal floor.

He was gripping the stabilizing shaft too tightly, he realized, and relaxed.

"Oh, sorry," said the Doctor distractedly as the shaking immediately diminished and the TARDIS slowly materialised into the Universe, against starscaped space, in deep wheezing breaths as though it had just held its breath for too long under current.

He levelled the TARDIS off, straightened and ran a quick scanning sweep of the surroundings. The sensors picked up nothing.

He gave an audible sigh of relief and his mind immediately returned to Earth. To the massive invasion force that had arrived and blanketed its atmosphere.

He saw them follow the TARDIS. He saw them gave chase. But how many? How many now were still on Earth, destroying the planet? Surely, he got their attention. Surely? Hopefully.

"Did we lose them?" interrupted Ivy, business-like and maturing too fast. The Doctor caught her eye and she swept her hair to her face and stared determinedly at the screen. "Where are we?"

"The Unknown Regions," said the Doctor. "The furthest tip of space."

"We've lost them," confirmed Jenny as the TARDIS signalled a safe landing zone with a chirp. "We're deep in the dark now."

* * *

The Master got in way over his head. And so did he, mused Bob. A troop of Rassilon's men were rushing the Master and Bob was separately staring down Lord Rassilon.

It wasn't the way he expected the day to be ending when it started.

Sharp cracking sounds were lightning, coming and going in staccato waves. It was a hint of danger. _No time to waste_. Bob struck fast. The gushing waves of his flame engulfed Rassilon as he rose high into the air with a grin.

The victory was short lived. A gauntleted hand moved.

Bob looked down at the Time Lord below him, barely visible behind the fiery blaze yet somehow he still seemed to loom like a sinister shadow, a black hole in the shape of a robed man.

The fire whined, subsided into a great snake-like fiery mass and bent its will to Rassilon, who then sent it flying through the air straight back towards the dragon.

Bob was caught by surprise. He bared his teeth. His heart beat with an excitement of mortality. He had never truly known he was capable of feeling such fear. He was a fucking dragon. What did he ever have to be scared of before?

Now however…

He reached out into the depths of his lungs, searched for that spark of flame, now swelling and rising in him like an invisible muscle and finally let rip a thundering blast of fire.

The explosion of two fire blasts rocked the air. Lightning split the sky into a thousand pieces. Thunder boomed. Far below and all around, the sea and rivers raged. Rain began to pour.

Through the smoke, Bob saw a stalking dark figure and a great burst of lightning arced from his staff. Bob dived right and narrowly missed it. He almost smiled. Rassilon's rage was not so easily escaped. The dragon snarled and dived headfirst towards him.

Fire swelled in his chest as he rocketed to the earth. Then, lightning met flame and the two collided and connected. His determination met Lord Rassilon's rage, and for an instant he was unsure which would win…

And then alarmingly, with gentle ease, Rassilon straightened and swiped the air with both staff and gauntlet. Fire and lightning ceased and before Bob could do anything more than yell a roaring spit of flame, Rassilon spoke words in the ancient Gallifreyan tongue.

"_Die."_

There was a terrible scream as the dragon's abdomen ruptured and split in the middle and he fell to the ground, bathed in his own blood than was raining down on him.

"_Last of the great dragons_," muttered Rassilon coldly, his ancient faraway-eyes narrowing. "_I regret how the mighty have fallen."_

He turned; there was no remorse nor sadness in him. Rassilon stalked away as Bob rasped and gurgled indecipherable words, his large amber eyes widened and fixed on the Time Lord's back.

"_You dragged us as you fell, boy."_

* * *

"I'm not getting anything," said Jenny as she fed the scanners with any number of search commands. "There's nothing. No Empire, no naval fleet, not even a skirmish."

"A _silent devastation_ he called it," recounted Ivy as she watched on, a burgeoning self-pity growing in the pit of her stomach as she felt adequately useless just watching.

"_No, no, no, _they must have left a trace," the Doctor said stubbornly shaking his head and gesturing wildly with his hands as though to assure himself. Frustration and determination filled his voice as Jenny futilely worked harder on the controls. "The scans are wrong. Our enemy, whoever they are… _are clever_. Way cleverer than anyone we've met before...so we must be looking at it the wrong way..."

"Boosting the scan," announced Jenny hopefully, and they waited quietly. No one seemed to know what to say. She struggled to keep their collective emotional turmoil at bay. Like her, they were bouncing randomly among grief, rage, and disappointment. Even the Doctor was struggling to stay centred.

It was a long and silent wait aside from the hum of the TARDIS engines that grumbled from far beneath their feet. But the stillness did not bring comfort to any of them. The quiet drone was unnerving.

Then, a chirp of instrumentation made them jump, and they looked up at the monitors eagerly. Jenny was first to react, staring at the screen as the scanning information streamed in from billions of light years away.

She blew out a breath, stood and tried to find her calm.

"Nothing again," she said disappointedly. "Just a big blank."

"Now that's …_scary_," mused the Doctor suddenly his eyes, narrowed and still fixed on the monitors. He pursed his lips and frowned. Something felt off.

Ivy stared at him, wearing her confusion. Worry lines creased her forehead. He caught her eye once again and he answered her unspoken query.

"Whole universe and not even one little dogfight between pirates?" he questioned, absent-mindedly nibbling slightly on fingernails. "Not one Atraxi misunderstanding? Whole galaxy and everybody's at peace?""

Suspicion and curiosity grew.

"Maybe they're invisible?" Matt said shrugging as he sat down, cupping his chin. He slouched when he spoke, weighed down by events. "Cloaking or something. Perception filters. I dunno."

The Doctor suddenly turned and looked at him thunderstruck.

"Or not?" he added nervously, taken aback. "It's lame I guess. Yeah. They probably don't do something like that. I dunno…"

"That's it!" roared the Doctor loudly. The penny was in the air. His bright eyes were wide, piercing and ablaze. A stirring revelation was rising from within him with every breath he took.

Then, the penny dropped.

The Doctor, frantically began babbling, his fingers pointing, snapping, waving and smacking against his forehead furiously like a strange chorus. "How could I be so _stupid_? No, _no_, no, no. Too simple. Oh but..._yes_. No! _Yes_! No. Oh but that's _very clever_. It's right in front of us. Staring us in the face all this time. Jenny, scan again but this time, don't scan for what's there. Scan for what's not there."

Jenny complied diligently, her loose hair hanging long across her face.

They waited.

It was a short wait. The instrumentation beeped a signal almost immediately.

"Woah," said Jenny as more beeps chimed receipt of answers. "We've got something."

The monitor screens began to load with numbers and symbols. Bells seemed to chime in eager response. The TARDIS seemed to urge itself in that moment.

"There we go," whispered the Doctor, a hint of awe in his voice as he stroked his hand across the image of star-filled space on the screen. Large swathes of it were glowing white. "Radar filters, all over the universe, hiding them in plain sight."

"But we still don't know exactly what we're up against," informed Matt.

"That's easy," said Jenny dismissively. "All we have to do is compare and contrast the two scans. What's _there_, what's _not there_ and we'll get what's been hiding _in between_."

"Put it up on hologram," urged the Doctor.

The TARDIS did as he asked and the lights began to dim as the hologram of the Universe filled the room. Planets, moons and entire star systems floated around them and Ivy, looking down on the Milky Way that wafted past the tip of her nose, felt foolishly like a giant amongst the constellations. She stretched out a hand to Earth, but her fingers simply went straight through unsympathetically.

"Ok now let's see," Jenny said as she tapped away at the controls hurriedly. "The bad guys will light up in _red_-Oh..."

Slowly, the holograms of the planets began to turn a threatening hue of red one by one.

"That's not too bad," shrugged Matt as he made his way through the holographic stars systems. "I mean-"

"Zoom out," said the Doctor gravely, his eyes furrowed and his teeth gritting. "Show me everything."

Ivy chewed the corner of her lip. She felt fear creep on her again. The Doctor's voice was cold. Then she blinked hard. The glare of the red lights was making her stomach turn.

"Oh," Matt whispered. "That's bad."

"Why don't we ever see anything good on these holograms?" asked Ivy, trying not to feel nauseated at the sight and scale of their problem, but her voice turned stiff. Frustration was growing within her but she tried her hardest to not let it show.

"Head us a course to one of these places," the Doctor said, grinding his teeth. He pointed to a planet at random. "Griffoth. We'll start there."

Jenny nodded, engaging the controls where she felt the TARDIS pelting through the vortex tunnel and headed a course to the planet of Griffoth. Then, all at once the TARDIS shook violently, nearly knocking them all off their feet.

"What was that?" asked Ivy, bracing herself and struggling to keep balance.

"Well I'm not sure what that was," said the Doctor. "Think we might have hit some sort of gravitational speed bump."

"A _gravitational_ _speed bump_? They have speed bumps in space? How fast were we going?"

In the centre of the console, the glowing crystalline columns groaned and wheezed as if wrestling some unimaginable force. The lights began to dim, the interior of the ship descending into gloom.

"Well, not a speed bump as such," said the Doctor, completely unfazed by the dimming of the lights and the monstrous cacophony being made by the TARDIS.

"More like..._a road block_."

Then, suddenly the TARDIS quaked violently again and again. This time successfully knocking them all off their feet.

"Alright," continued the Doctor, as he got up, shaking his head happily, "_several _road blocks."

"Feels like someone doesn't want us here," cried Jenny as she shook her head in pain.

"Precisely," agreed the Doctor, grabbing the controls tightly with both hands with a flash of his gleeful grin as the TARDIS lurched forwards, as though falling from the edge.

* * *

Shaun Temple bore her body in his arms, blinking like an owl in daylight as his stream of tears blinded him. He stumbled slightly, arms shaking as he struggled to carry her, the burden of grief bearing down upon him as well.

"Help me!" the cry rang into the shuddering smoke-filled air.

But no matter how loud he was even in the clamour of battle, there was no help nor hope to lift him.

He struggled on, his body thus far had only known to move forwards and to not look back. Shaun then finally looked around: he had forgotten the war, and all the world beside. All of his mind had been on Donna, who lay unmoving in his arms still.

Then he saw it.

The hospital.

It was ruined and aflame but there were people there. Nurses and doctors. A light in his heart grew as he hastened.

"Help!" he screamed in hope. "Help!"

His voice was heard. A man turned, his eyes bright upon him as he met his gaze. Shaun smiled as he wept, staggering forwards as quickly as his weary legs could carry him and his wife.

"Help me!" as his heart cried within him, and his knees buckled sending him kneeling hard to the ground.

"_Please_, help me," Shaun said to the man who was now sprinting towards him, coat flapping at speed. "My wife…she needs a Doctor. P-please…help her. She needs a-"

"It's ok, it's ok," hushed the man, trying to calm Shaun as he smiled a wide smile and laughed at the sight of Donna and stroked a gentle hand across her cheek. "Trust me. I'm the Doctor."

* * *

It seemed impossible to survive this ride.

But for the Doctor completely impossible had an uncanny way of being merely difficult as he reigned in the TARDIS with every limb he had on him. Ivy reflected that she should be used to it by now. The Doctor was now fighting ferociously upon the controls, like trying to tame an angry beast as the TARDIS pitched and angled more wildly.

Then, there was a sudden terrific clanging sound, like that of a monstrous hammer slamming down onto an impossibly large anvil and the TARDIS abruptly stopped moving.

Though the engines of the TARDIS had stopped wheezing and the outside world was quiet, the inside was still filled with a sonorous ringing. The Cloister bell had rung.

The TARDIS had broken through a thick pink blanket of clouds and the brown, blue and white of the planet Griffoth's northern hemisphere filled out the TARDIS' monitors. The company in the console room watched mesmerised by the bucolic beauty that had appeared.

Snow and ice peppered the blue box, frozen shrapnel, beating a steady rhythm against it. The slow setting suns suffused a large swath of the world with orange and red. The northern sea roiled below them, choppy and dark, the irregular white circles of breaking waves denoting the thousands of tiny uncharted islands that poked through the surface of the sea. To the far west, far in the distance, snow-capped, cloud-topped mountains ran along the spine of the world.

It was to there, where the cavern cities of Griffoth were hidden in the mountains, that the Doctor steered the TARDIS.

He eyed the location on the navigational computer, pressed several buttons and flipped a few levers and returned the controls to the TARDIS, and she banked him towards the ridge line where the shadows stretched long and high.

The calm tranquillity of the planet did not ease the Doctor's anxiety. Still heart, still mind, these things eluded him, floated before him like snowflakes in the sun, visible for a moment, then melted and gone the next.

There was something in this world. He could feel it in his hearts. In silent darkness a doom has already swept the land.

* * *

And there they stood, in the midst of the dead and slain, in one another's arms. Suresh and Gita Chandra embraced their child tightly, sandwiching her in between, kissing and crying all at once. Their hysterical mutterings of prayer and relief were not comprehensible by ear but their daughter understood them all the same.

Sarah Jane could not speak but cried anew as she held Luke and Clyde closely.

"What happened?" gasped Clyde as he tried to mask his tears. "I thought we were goners."

"Containment vortex failing," chimed K9.

"Force field," said Luke without hesitation, pointing to the glowing shield of energy that surrounded them. "Mr Smith must have learnt how to shift his containment field to protect us."

"That computer never fails to amaze me," muttered Sarah Jane happily.

"Wait though," interrupted Rani, her expression confused. "If this is his containment field—"

Her thoughts churned. All of them seemed to be on the edge of saying something, yet no one said anything. K9 finally gave voice to what she imagined all of them must be thinking.

"The Xylok is dying," stated K9. "Mr Smith is-"

Ominously, the glowing bubble of energy died as they came close to their realization. The suffocating feeling extinguished the need to hear the end of the sentence. Ripples of cold undulated over Sarah Jane's skin as she rushed first to her broken home.

"MR SMITH!"

* * *

The TARDIS doors opened and snow and cold blew in, the tang of ocean salt. Ivy stepped out into the wind. The light of the setting twin suns made her squint. She'd been too used to the artificial light of the TARDIS. Her boots crunched on the snow-dusted black rock and her exhalations steamed away in the wind.

"Blimey, it's freezing," she cringed as the cold wind bit against her cheeks.

"It's times like this I wish I still had my scarf," said the Doctor as the others joined her, bracing themselves against the cold. Ivy was suddenly glad her jacket was so thick though she now wished it had a hood. "I loved that scarf."

"Come on, keep moving. We'll all die from this cold if we stay here, and I have no plans on you meeting the next me," he said as he led the way down the icy slope fringed with jagged black glittering rocks.

Ivy trailed behind the others as she eyed the world around her with concern. Nothing marked their passage and they walked untroubled. She felt unease at the silence. An unease that filled her chest.

She felt as if she were submerged deep underwater, the pressure of it pushing against her. She kept waiting for her ears to pop, to grant her release in a flash of pain. But it did not come.

Then finally, they paused as they stopped and stood at the mouth of a cave. There was ruin here. The cave was like the TARDIS. At first glance it seemed ordinary and small. But it was bigger on the inside.

Ivy gasped as she saw the city. Buildings, towers, bridges, lifts and plazas covered the entire inside of the cavern, to a height of kilometres, all of it the trappings of what looked like a wealthy, mighty civilization. Or once was.

"The cave cities of Griffoth," whispered the Doctor, sorrowful and soft, as a rocky column like a skyrise, came crumbling down. "I'm _so_ sorry."

They entered the cave, its ancient stone was cold and grey even against fire.

The shell of some war machine, like a tank, smoked and burned in places near the entrance. The company walked slowly into the cavernous city, the smell of smoke and death filling their lungs. Bits of blackened metal and weaponry dotted the fire lit cave. Walls and columns had been reduced to piles of jagged rubble. Graskes and Groskes lay dead everywhere.

"Oh no," Matt whispered seeing the bodies and making a movement towards a group of bodies.

"Do nothing," Jenny pleaded to the others over her shoulder. "Let fallen warriors rest."

Matt let his hands fall slack to his sides and fell in behind the others.

"Why would anyone do this?" Ivy asked.

The last word hung in the air, frozen in time as the group went deeper into the darkness. The setting sunlight on their backs barely reached the city but extended their shadows before them, like dark heralds marking the path ahead.

"Can you smell that?" the Doctor asked as they stopped to a halt before a ruinous temple of sorts. "It's in the air; Time's running dry here."

The Doctor stretched out a hand to stroke the stone. Cracks veined the walls and ceiling. Jenny joined her father and stood in the temple's shattered entrance. She held his hand, and the fire glinted on her long hair. Her eyes moved across the destruction, but the soft line of her mouth showing no emotion.

"I don't think they left anyone alive," she said. Her fists balled with anger and grief, and she felt an empty shout creeping up her throat. Breathing deeply, regularly, she sought to quell her slow loss of control.

"They didn't," the Doctor said.

"Probably the same story for all the other planets and systems that they hid from us," added Ivy bitterly. A thought struck her, and the thought transformed into need. An idea rooted in her mind, in her gut, and she could not unseat it. She suddenly, wanted the dead to be avenged…

"I feel sick," Matt said as he sat down, throwing his back against a column spire.

"Well, we wanted to see what they could do," said Ivy resentfully, "Now we've seen it, what do we do?"

All eyes fell upon the Doctor as he stared at the bodies and the ruin, unblinking.

There was a soundless pause as he considered his words carefully.

"We fight," he said, anger bleeding into his tone and a steel in his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note :**

This has been a very long wait. But I had other emergencies to deal with and last month was a bad month for me with regards to writing.

But fret not, I wrote 2 chapters and will be posting the next one in a short while. I'm being calculative with my stuff now so I can handle my chapters better as well as reward the keen eyed Whovians with more interesting stuff.

Anyways, the two chapters really ought to be one but there's also natural act breaks everywhere that I needed to exploit. I'm controlling the pacing of my story with intent and purpose so the overall flow will feel be more organic and emotional tones that need to hit harder than others do so.

So hopefully this isn't a mad crazy fast paced chapter it was in the drafts. Or not unintentionally mad and crazy where it's not supposed to be.

Also, I just put the Master on a dragon, fighting Rassilon. How cool is that?


	9. Chapter Seven : Breaking the Silence

**Chapter Seven : Breaking the Silence**

"_When reason slept, when mothers wept, when soldiers crept, the monsters came.__"-The Silence_

The floor was slicked with dragon's blood, and his knees were soaked in it as he knelt helpless and powerless. The great beast convulsed and writhed painfully its final breaths in the wet dirt. Its horrible cries rang in the cold raining air. Head, tail and wings thrashing and beating against the hard ground as it struggled in agony.

The Master watched.

"Your emotions are pungent," sneered Rassilon, his gauntleted hand slowly twisting and crushing the Master's skull. "Is that fear I smell? Or anger?"

The Master coughed up a brave laugh, spitting dark blood at Rassilon's face.

"I thought us bad guys all lost the art of the diatribe," snarled the Master sarcastically. "Nice to see you're still rocking the pontificating groove though."

"Of all people, _you_ would defend mankind?" growled Rassilon a curious expression on his face as his grip tightened. "You who would have waded through their blood once. So filled with hate."

"Will you just _shut up_ and _get on_ with it?" he said resigned and annoyed as he shifted uncomfortably in his grasp.

Rassilon was right. His words tugged at parts of him that had lain dormant for a long time. But he was trying to be different now. He had lost his way only to find it again.

He shied away from both memory and contemplation. There was no point wasting energy on either when his survival was at stake. If he were to die now, let it be quick. He preferred it when it was quick. He had enough being toyed by Rassilon, gloating and sneering.

Rassilon too had enough and obliged. The gauntleted hand thrashed aside the Master to the ground like a ragdoll. He bent over him like a cloud, and his eyes glittered; slowly and lovingly he raised his mighty staff to kill. Deadly currents crackled and sparked around him.

But then suddenly, a _boom_! Rassilon stumbled forward with a howl of bitter pain, his deathly stroke went wide, driving the staff into the ground which shattered into many pieces like a comet hitting the Earth.

A blast of energy had shot through the air and caught him from behind, shearing through his back.

All eyes turned to where the laser blast had come. From the cloud of smoke and dust, a tall handsome man marched forwards with a large laser cannon in his hands. His blue coat flapped wildly in the roaring wind, a brilliant wide smile upon his face.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Nice to meet you," said Jack, eyes lit and smiling wide. "Is this a private war or can _anyone_ join?"

"Kill him!" urged the Master suddenly as Rassilon rose up roaring, showing no sign of the previous assault on him. "NOW!"

Jack quickly aimed another shot but it was too late. The blast shrieked through the air but in a bright green flash, Rassilon had simply vanished from the spot.

* * *

"_Wake up, little one…"_

The simple beast stirred, blinking and in severe pain. The Judoon was scrambling on the floor, hurt and confused, screaming a guttural whine of agony.

"_Be calm," _said a silken voice that echoed in his head.

Toruk Tor heaved himself with barely enough strength upright, and looked around him. Destruction and chaos littered the street.

His mind was a blur. Had he fallen to Earth? Fragments of memory seared his skull. All he could recall were the screams, the explosions and the rush of smoke-filled wind.

"_Little one?"_ hushed the voice smoothly. _"Your role in this has not yet ended."_

"Who is that?"

"_A friend… Trust me."_

"What do you want?"

"_To help."_

"How?"

"_Follow the Magpies."_

* * *

Rose Tyler stepped out from the light and the blue door behind her vanished as she closed it. There was now just a wall where a second ago, the gleaming blue portal had been. Or part of a wall. The destruction here was… catastrophic.

Bannerman Road loomed out of the darkness. A thick cloud of dust hung like a funeral shroud over the mountain of shattered stone and steel that had been the houses that lined the road. There were no lights and no comforting sounds. Only a squadron of fighters in the rain, warring amongst the stars. But she wasn't here for sights and sounds. She moved quickly through the rain.

Breathing fast and hard, Rose searched in hope. Praying for them to be alive. Praying that what she was betting on would work. Bannerman Road was key.

Time moved against her. Now that she wanted time to move as slowly as possible, it seemed to have sped up. Her legs ran to race against it.

Then, she found it from afar. 13, Bannerman Road the sign said. However, her heart died as she saw the building, half demolished and crumbling still.

But, there was a sound. There were people. In the wreckage she heard slight movements.

"Sarah Jane?" she called out in hope.

She heard sobbing as she drew closer with every step. She hoped. She hoped hard.

"Sarah Jane?" she called out again as she made her way through the wreck of stone and fire.

"In here," called out a voice.

"We're over here!"

Rose hurtled forwards. Relief washing over her until she saw them, huddled together in a tight circle.

"Rose?" said Sarah Jane astounded looking up to see her. "Oh my god, I never thought I'd see you again."

The two rushed to embrace one another, Rose cheerfully laughing.

"Neither did I," admitted Rose. "Though it's not really a good thing that I'm here."

"Rose, do you know what's going on?"

She stared silently at Sarah Jane. The words were too difficult for her to say.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Rose. "The universe is at war."

"The universe?" said Luke, and he sounded startled.

"It's difficult to explain and we don't have much time," cut Rose hastily. She could feel the pressing of questions on the lips of the others. "I can explain it when we're in safer places, but I need your help."

"Anything," offered Luke without delay.

"We need to use Mr Smith."

There was a abrupt change in the atmosphere. The others looked at one another looking as though like frightened children caught and guilty.

"What?" asked Rose, fear infecting her. "What happened?"

The tight circle parted, shifting uneasily so she could finally see what they had been surrounding. Her hopes evaporated immediately at the sight of it and her gasp of despair was drowned by the howl of the wind and rain.

"I'm sorry," said Sarah Jane over the rolling thunder. "Mr Smith is _dead_."

* * *

Electrical discharges danced around the bridge. Darkness briefly shrouded him before a flash of light filled the room and he materialised fully, stalking into the ship's bridge angrily, dripping in blood and smoke.

"You've returned?" said the Rani, surprise ringing clear in her dark voice. "So soon?"

"I should never have left," spat Rassilon, casting aside his smouldering robes. The air he carried with him carried the faint, sickly sweet tang of burned bodies, blood and rain. "They lured me into entering the fray."

"Lured you?" laughed the Rani haughtily. "They did no such thing. It was your impatience that cost you."

"Have a care how you speak to me," snarled Rassilon, his gauntlet emitting angry sparks and flashing dangerously. An invisible fist gripped the Rani's throat and cast her against the wall, lifting her bodily off the floor. "You will keep a civil tongue in your mouth or I shall sew it shut for you!"

"If you do that, it would make it difficult for me to pass you some important piece of news," she scoffed, choking.

The Rani grinned maliciously, caressing her neck as she was instantly released and the resistance fell away.

"What is it?"

"The TARDIS has _gone_."

* * *

Ivy felt dizzy. A rush of emotion flooded her. She could not name it, categorize it. It was just a wash of inchoate, raw feeling. She was swimming in it, sinking.

Her eyelids felt heavy. Impossibly so. She was tired but she didn't feel like sleeping before. Not until now. It was as if some invisible force was casting the darkness over her eyes.

She wished someone could see. See that something had gone wrong with her. That someone could pull her out of this sinking, drowning sensation. But nobody did. Somehow Ivy found she had strayed away from them. She remembered walking away though she couldn't remember why that was exactly.

Closer and closer her lids slid over her eyes until finally…

Flashes of memory ran past behind her eyes. A woman in white, her hair danced like fire, framing the beautiful symmetry of her face.

"_Be safe," _she said as the world around her fell into darkness.

"Do I know you?"

"_Be strong, and tell him nothing."_

* * *

"Can you fix him?" Rose asked concerned as she looked over the crumbling shell of Mr Smith. Deep cracks from the explosion had lined his features and his broken lights and screens were flickering feebly.

The air was filled with tension as explosions like thunder sounded, the steady drumbeat of intense bombardment. She could see the fear that was full in everyone's eyes as they stood gathered around her, even in cold vicious rain that was beating into their faces. They were not safe here. Not in the open. They needed to leave immediately.

But she had to see. She took a gamble on the risks. She had come all this way. The hole that had opened inside her when she saw the broken Xylox gasped for air still. She feared she might drain away into it in despair.

"Is there anyway we can fix Mr Smith?" repeated Rose impatiently.

Luke knelt and surveyed Mr Smith keenly, examining as much of whatever was left still standing. The Xylok computer was now a mere mound of rubble, sparking electrical cables and wires the only evidence of its alien technology.

He studied the mainframe in a long silence, picking up his broken pieces, almost as if cradling a dying friend. The parts were cold, hard and distant in the freezing rain. It felt nothing akin to Mr Smith.

"No," Luke said finally, his wet cheeks coloured with anger and his mouth a thin line of frustration. "I can't fix this."

Alien ships swarmed the air. Bombs fell like rain and exploded into showers of red and orange and black. Gouts of smoke poured into the sky. Secondary explosions sent deep vibrations moaning through the ground. Rose occasionally caught the sounds of distant, panicked screaming. They stabbed deep at her heart.

Her plan was failing and the consequence of that was simply…_ unthinkable_.

The cracked head of a Cyberman laid aside the mound beside Rose, eyeing her mournfully through its baleful empty sockets. The rain became heavier, ringing loudly on the metal body.

"But I have an idea," interjected Luke suddenly, looking up to her with bright spark in his eye as though he had just caught hold of a thought.

"What is it?" asked Sarah Jane

"I can't guarantee it'll work," he said as he scrambled forwards picking up the Xylox gem of Mr Smith in one hand and in the other he lay on the metal chest of the fallen Cyberman, "and it's… _crazy_ but it's worth a shot."

"What do you have in mind?" urged Rose desperately.

"This gem, it's his brain. So, I figure we'll just need a new body."

Luke looked at her and then towards the Cyberman. Two pieces of a puzzle were being presented to her now. She hung her head, tried to gather the thoughts bouncing chaotically in her brain.

"I think I see what you're getting at," she said, though she tried not to sound unsure.

She had spent the last year battling Cybermen with the Doctor in Pete's World. She did not like the idea of turning something into one of them.

More explosions rocked the urban landscape. A bomb struck a power station, and an enormous flare of plasma jetted half a kilometer into the sky. More shuddering screams filled the air…

"Do it," said Rose firmly, refusing doubt permission to assail her certainty as she watched the plasma flare burn part of the city.

* * *

"Ivy?" Matt called out, waving his right hand at her. "Have you been listening?"

She blinked slow and seemed half-dazed as he spoke to her. Matt stared and watched her carefully. She was acting strange. Distracted and keeping to herself, as though she had tuned out the world around her. Several times now he caught her staring into space, a curious and strange expression drawn across her face.

At the intensity of his gaze, Ivy instantly shook her head as though to clear up her thinking.

"You alright?" he asked her tentatively.

"Fine," she lied with a smile.

Matt didn't know what was going on, but he knew Ivy. And she was not _fine._

* * *

"My Lord," spoke Rassilon, a furrowed brow and the tight line of his mouth betraying the tension behind his otherwise calmed expression. He had not looked forward to this moment since he heard news of the TARDIS.

"Rassilon," acknowledged the Emperor. The voice that answered him was so familiar that sometimes his very thoughts spoke in it, instead of in his own. "What news?"

Rassilon knew better than to hesitate. It would betray fear and he had far too much pride to cower. He rose from his bow and stood tall, his staff - the glory of Gallifrey – in his grasp.

"I apologise my Lord, but the Doctor has escaped our-"

"So they have run, have they?" the Emperor's voice went silken, interrupting him. It was as if he had anticipated it. As though he had always expected the Doctor to run. "The legend of his cowardice remain true, or so it would seem."

"He was foretold of our coming," revealed Rassilon quickly, as though to explain himself, his position. It had been his task to bring the Doctor and the Emperor rarely entertained failure. "_The Master is with him_."

"The Master knows _nothing_ of our purpose. He is no threat."

"I beg to differ my lord," urged Rassilon forcefully. "It is unwise. The Champions of Death and Time should _never_ be reunited as allies."

"Death and Time hold no sway against me," he drawled. "We are _beyond_ their reckoning now. Were we not, _you_ would still be dead and sealed in the Last Great Time War. "

Rassilon's fist reflexively clenched and unclenched at the hint of a threat towards him. It betrayed fear and frustration. He simply did not understand _the Emperor's_ thinking. The Master had shown up unexpectedly with foreknowledge of their coming and yet the Emperor showed no concern. There were clearly bigger things at work. Nothing was as it should be.

Rassilon had intended, _had expected_, to turn Earth into a cinder with the Doctor becoming their prisoner. And yet,

"Is the child still with the Doctor?" continued the Emperor.

"I believe so," said Rassilon, regaining his outwardly composure. "I could feel her presence though quiet it may have been."

"Good."

"However the TARDIS has now vanished from us. He has gone into deep space."

"He has entered _my _realm; rushing into my very arms," whispered the Emperor. "Find him and bring me the child."

"What of Earth?" asked Rassilon impatient.

He had seen it in his vision that it burns. He wanted to see it come to life with his own eyes.

"His love for the planet may fall in our favour later," replied the Emperor slowly, as if able to read his mind and seeking to frustrate him in every way as punishment. "But do not be distracted. Concentrate all your efforts on _Gallifrey's last child_. She is all that I require."

* * *

They stood there mesmerized as a cube of light whizzed madly about in the air.

"What is it?" asked Ivy as she approached closer, like a moth to a flame. The brisk wind the cube was generating mussed her hair as it got closer.

"A message," said the Doctor as he gently plucked the Hypercube from the air. As his fingertips touched the surface, the cube shivered and shone brighter as though recognizing him. Immediately, it whispered words seemingly audible only to him.

"From?" Matt asked.

The Doctor's eyes were closed behind his black-rimmed glasses and he was lost in a different conversation now. He did not reply for a while. He stood, hand clasping the cube and a sereneness seemed to fill him. Finally, as the cube's illumination flickered and died, the Doctor opened his eyes.

"The Master," he said and beamed widely. "We have a new heading; The _Maldovarium_."

* * *

"You know what I call two thousand alien corpses at the bottom of the Thames River?" barked General Adama cruelly, as he strode into his office chamber, drumming a steady rap of his boots on the polished veneer.

Buck didn't answer him. He stood still, at ease, enduring the whiff of the General's cigar as he made his way to his seat.

"A good start," gloated the General as he laughed heartily, taking his seat and exulting in the deaths he had caused.

But Buck was still. Memories eased past his mind of the deaths he had seen today. He fought down a flash of anger at the joy Adama had taken.

"Something wrong?"

The General's luminescent red eyes drew upon him, a scowl still etched upon his aged face. He held his eyes, unflinching and defiant. He would not allow Adama to control him more than he already had. He hung on to his honour quietly. Only the low hum and buzz of the _Valkyrie_ slowly flying over London filled the silent gulf between them.

"Nothing, _sir_," said Buck finally.

He struggled to push the last word out of his lips but Adama did not notice. His eyes, prosthetic as they were, seemed to glaze over as he stared past him, into the shadows.

"Never knew how much rage I'd kept in my guts for those..._creatures_," recounted Adama. "How much rage I'd feel upon seeing them again."

The air felt charged, agitated. Adama's emotions were surging and he shifted in his seat. Adama cleared his throat, and his red eyes glowed with intent.

Buck tensed. The General did not appear agitated however. He appeared coiled. He leaned forward across his desk, and removed his cigar from his mouth as though to whisper a secret to him.

"I have a new mission for you," drawled Adama finally getting to the point, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling.

"What is it?" asked Buck.

"Tell me," continued Adama, agonizingly leisurely as though to tease the tension further, "what do you know about the… _Hand of Omega_?"

Buck stared, dumbstruck at the General.

"Chernobyl," he said.

* * *

**Author's Notes :**

THE FUUUUUUCK?

Next chapter soon. Stay tuned or ...not.


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